“I think so, by this time; I have not seen her all day, she has had a most dreadful headache.”
“Well, I must have a jaw with her. Yes, I must. I won’t sneak you out of her house without an explanation, and I intend to give her a jolly good bit of my mind.”
“Oh, Ronnie—must you?”
“Yes, I must,” he rejoined, as we entered the bungalow; “which is the drawing-room?”
As I pointed to it in silence he pushed open the door and entered. Mrs. Hayes-Billington, who was crouching over the fire, turned on him a ghastly face, and I realised in a second that she was aware of his errand. Then like a coward I retreated and went away to break the news of my impending departure to the ayah.
“Missie going—me, too, going to-morrow morning!” she exclaimed.
I must confess that I rather expected a scene, but the ayah accepted the news with staggering unconcern. Mary was evidently accustomed to these hasty departures. She was a Deccanee woman, she informed me, and not sorry to return to her own country. With astonishing celerity she began to collect my various and scattered belongings, to sort and to fold. Natives love the excitement and hurry-scurry of a hasty move. A native cook welcomes, rather than otherwise, an unexpected addition to a dinner; a butler is never more in his element than when improvising a hasty tamasha, an abruptly arranged shikar party, or an early morning supper!
Presently Ronnie knocked peremptorily at my door and said:
“It’s all right. She says of course you must go—she is leaving too. Now mind you eat a good dinner and get to bed early, for it’s a beastly long journey. Ta ta!”
I did my utmost to do justice to my solitary meal, though I experienced sensations both varied and strange. I felt as if I were sitting among ruins, or as if I had been expelled from school, or was standing on the edge of a steep precipice gazing down into the unknown.