“Yes, and I shall be rather glad of a dog. They are great company, and these fox-terriers are the only breed that really thrive in a hot place, and I believe Secunderabad is fairly warm.”
“If you will really take Kipper,” I said, “I shall be most grateful, and he will see an old friend out there—my brother. If Kip is tiresome, you must pass him on.”
“I have never met your brother, as I am only recently appointed as A.D.C. to the general, but I shall look him up, and carry him any messages or parcels from you.”
“Tell him not to be so lazy about writing, and that you found me happily established here.”
“But still, so to speak, ‘on approval?’”
“I suppose it amounts to that!” Then suddenly, overwhelmed with qualms at my indiscreet outpourings, I added, “But please, Captain Falkland, forget everything I have told you. You know you made me talk, and I am afraid I am only too ready to chatter, and let my tongue run away with me.”
“There I envy you, for I can’t talk, or ever get out half I want to say. When I was a boy I had a hesitation in my speech; it was cured, but the memory has always tied my tongue. My family call me ‘Dummy.’ I suppose Miss Puckle kept you in great order?”
“No indeed, she merely pointed out my faults.”
“And these are——”
“Having told you so much I may as well confess that I like to talk when I get the chance. Since leaving school I have led rather a solitary sort of life. Miss Puckle was busy all day in the parish, or flying over the country on her bike. At night she was generally dead tired, and would lie on the sofa while I played to her, and the professor was buried in his books. Here, my uncle has been away since eight o’clock this morning, and I have had no one to speak to except Baker the butler, and of course we cannot advance beyond the weather, so when I get hold of listeners, I don’t spare them!”