“Where are you going, my son?” said Wyatt, with an Eastern metaphoric style which he sometimes put on.
“Just to say a word or two to Hulton, and then I’m going to have a look at the big temple.”
“What for?”
“To see it. One of the men told me it was very curious inside.”
“Who told you?”
“Hanson.”
“Humph! That letting-off and his wounds seem to have done that ruffian good. I didn’t know that he was the sort of fellow to visit temples. What’s to be seen?”
“I hardly know; only that it’s a wonderful place inside, with a gigantic bronze figure of that fat Indian god with the elephant’s head.”
“You’ll wear your side-arms?”
“Of course.”