"I am really," he answered promptly, "weather permitting."
"How I hope the weather will not permit. I'd a million times rather stay up here in the jungle, the real delightful jungle, within reach of white bread, the post-office, and hairpins. I could sit and read, and dream, and sketch, and ride up and down the valleys for months, and be so happy. What a shame it is that one cannot enjoy what one likes."
"Unfortunately we often like what is bad for us," said her guardian drily.
Angel drew a sigh of assent, and then resumed, "We never would have found this place, only for one of my jampannis, whose brother is in your service; he knew the way; was it not luck?"
"Yes," agreed Major Gascoigne. (But was it?)
"The road was nil—in places it had slipped a hundred feet. We just crawled along the precipices inch by inch, clinging on to roots and branches, tooth and nail."
"I must say it was very plucky of you to come."
"Oh, I did not mind a bit," said Angel carelessly. "And so your home is in Marwar?"
"Yes; I'm only up here on duty. There are several people you know in Marwar."
"Really?" raising her perfectly pencilled brows.