"Righto. And tell me," continued my chum, "what you really do think of that young man Captain Holiday?"
I couldn't help laughing. If Elizabeth wants to get at anything, it comes off in the long run. So, as we hobbled stiffly down the road together, I told her as much as I did "think" on the score of this new acquaintance. I described the cow-house scene.
"Such a truly idyllic setting," I chaffed her, "for any sort of a tête-à-tête!"
I repeated the young man's remarks about the way to "make work do itself, and to let gravity grav." I told her how he'd made me roll down my sleeves again, and had ordered me about generally.
"I think he's rather a domineerer. But he is a sahib, of course. He's rather original, too. And almost the rudest person I've met," I said critically. "He is the rudest, next to you."
Elizabeth said blandly:
"Yes, and yet you've always liked me most awfully. I suppose you'll soon find out how much you like him."
I began to say, "We shall probably never see the man again," but remembered that he was the owner of this land on which we toiled, and that it would sound silly. So I merely said:
"I don't dislike him at all."
Elizabeth shook her bobbed hair against her cheeks. Grimly, fatalistically, she added: