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why I shall now return it to the box and secure it in the safe.”
    We watched the whole ceremony in reverse, with White depositing the ruby in its silken nest and turning the key in the lock, and Ford bearing away the mahogany chest with his master on his heels.
    Mr. Carter promptly seized Marie’s elbow and drew her into a corner where he proceeded to deliver a tongue-lashing, no doubt on the subject of well-bred young ladies refraining from discussions of curses and costs. Mrs. Carter and Mrs. White retired to a window to admire the garden. Philip, Ashton and I made up an uneasy triangle.
    “Quite a sparkler old White has there.” Ashton cocked a brow at Philip. “Rather tempting fate, isn’t he? Showing off the ruby like that, I mean. I hope he’s taken precautions, or he may find his ownership of the gem briefer than he anticipated.”
    “He’s no fool,” said Philip, looking disdainfully at Ashton. “I expect the jewel is quite safe.”
    “I do hope it is, for his sake. He wouldn’t enjoy becoming another in the long line of luckless owners of the Rajah’s Ruby.”
    White returned and Philip drew him off again to talk tobacco and soon Mr. Carter left off haranguing his daughter and joined them for what appeared to be an engrossing discussion of shipping dates and letters of credit. I wondered just how I was to go about charming White if Philip kept dragging him off to talk business. Ashton wandered about with a cigarette in his hand, peering at the unspeakable paintings on the parlour walls while I sauntered over to chat with Marie. This proved a mistake, as I found myself trapped for what seemed an eternity while the drab creature droned on about Papa’s tiresome lectures. Given the length and spirit of her own tirade, I reckoned the fruit had hit the ground directly below the parental limb.
    A gong sounded and Ford arrived to announce in sepulchral tones that dinner was served. I sighed with relief, and waited for Philip to join me. He was looking rather pinched about the mouth, and a little pale.
    “What’s the matter, Philip? Has White turned you down?”
    “It’s not that. In fact, he seems quite interested in my proposal.” Philip winced and pressed a hand to his stomach. “I’m damned if I don’t feel a bit peaked.”
    “Something you ate?”
    “I don’t know. It’s come over me suddenly.” He wiped his brow and grimaced. “Blast. I’ve got to dash, India. Can you apologize for me? I’ll be down in just a minute.” Without waiting for my reply he galloped off, clutching his midsection.
    The other guests were already seated when I trailed into the dining room. Ford had evidently been dispatched to find Philip and me, for I met him at the door.
    “Mr. Barrett is indisposed,” I whispered. “He’ll be down directly.”
    “Is there anything I can do?”
    “Thank you, no. I don’t believe it’s serious.”
    He fluttered a ghostly hand in the direction of the table. “I’ve seated you next to Mr. White.”
    I hastened to take my chair, muttering Philip’s regrets while a footman shoved me up to the table and draped a napkin in my lap.
    “That’s rough.” White gave me a sympathetic look, which was wasted, of course, as I wasn’t the one searching for the nearest water closet. “Should we delay supper for the boy?”
    “Oh, no. Please go on. Philip will join us soon.”
    White gave a peremptory nod and the footmen started the rounds, dishing up a savory broth and pouring wine. After tasting both, I was pleased to learn that Philip’s intelligence about the pleasures of the American’s table was correct. I hoped that Philip recovered sufficiently to appreciate the quality of the food and drink on offer.
    We’d finished our soup and begun a second course of
filets de sole
by the time Philip arrived, looking flushed and breathing heavily. There was a bead of sweat above his lip. He slid into the empty chair between Mrs. White and Mrs. Carter with a pretty apology that