“I’ve not; don’t be ridiculous.”
“You have. You’re cross with me about something or other.”
Any direct attack threw him out of action. Presently he said: “So you and Madamsell Adela used to amuse one another in the evening, naughty boy.”
Those drab and high-minded talks had scarcely made for dalliance. Fielding was so startled at the story being taken seriously, and so disliked being called a naughty boy, that he lost his head and cried: “You little rotter! Well, I’m damned. Amusement indeed. Is it likely at such a time?”
“Oh, I beg your pardon, I’m sure. The licentious Oriental imagination was at work,” he replied, speaking gaily, but cut to the heart; for hours after his mistake he bled inwardly.
“You see, Aziz, the circumstances . . . also the girl was still engaged to Heaslop, also I never felt . . .”
“Yes, yes; but you didn’t contradict what I said, so I thought it was true. Oh dear, East and West. Most misleading. Will you please put your little rotter down at his hospital?”
“You’re not offended?”
“Most certainly I am not.”
“If you are, this must be cleared up later on.”