"I'm Mallender, Miss Miller—don't you know me?"
"No, where am I, tell me?"
"You've been hunting—and you've just had a pip off the old horse," he explained, with patient slowness.
"Where?"
"At the wall; where you took it was a foot too high for the Nizam, and he landed on his head."
"I remember—now."
"I think you are only a bit shaken—he might have broken your neck."
"How I wish he had!" was her disconcerting rejoinder.
"Come, come, Miss Miller, I see you are knocked out of time," said Mallender cheerfully, "I know what it's like myself."
"No, no, you don't know," she contradicted hysterically, "you—you don't understand—how could you?" Something in her voice moved him unspeakably.