"But there are races again to-morrow, you know."
"My! my! so there arre. Well, the day after tomorrow is Sunday—and there are no races; and if you do not come to tiffin, I am sure Verona"—here she glanced at the rigid face on her left—"will be awfully offended. You come—and bring a friend."
"Then, thank you, I will come on Sunday. There is the saddling bell, I really must go!" and in another moment Captain Haig had effected his escape.
When next he caught sight of Salwey, he went straight up to him and began:
"Good God! I never got such a shock in my life! You are an old friend, and I think you might have prepared me; I have just had a three-finger peg of whisky and soda, and even with that I feel completely knocked out of time. To think of that girl being a half-caste! It seems impossible! What awful people! Why, her mother is as dark as an ayah! Who are they?"
"Her father is in the sugar works at Manora—he was in the cavalry, and——"
"See it all," interrupted Haig; "got into a scrape, married a half-caste—fired out of the Service—social collapse."
"I presume you are not now contemplating taking a month's leave at Rajahpore," remarked Salwey, with dry significance. "Seen the family?"
"Don't rub it in, Salwey, you savage! You cannot understand what a fearful blow I've just had." He really looked as white and shaken as if he had recently had a fall.
"You don't want to meet Miss Verona again?"