“Yes, if only they would stay small.”
“I’m so glad. But I think this one will, there are kinds, you know, that never grow large, and I like them best that way myself.” And then she launched forth into another favourite topic, and here again Varne met her on her own ground, and with knowledge. And here again Mervyn was observant, and had misgivings.
Now all of a sudden something he had been puzzling over took light, and it was caused by a casual remark on the part of this somewhat strangely formed acquaintance.
“Have you been in India?” he interrupted, abruptly.
“Yes, a little.”
“Where?”
“In the North West Provinces, and the Northern border.”
“Strange how things come back,” went on Mervyn. “Now your name is a bit uncommon, and I’ve been racking my brain box over it. Do you happen to be related to Varne Coates, who was Commissioner at Baghnagar?”
“Yes. He’s rather a near cousin of mine.”
“Look at that now. He used to be one of my greatest friends. Small world this after all.”