“It was very good of you to come and see me,” said Sargon.
“Why did you come?...
“Do you think anything will be done about me?...
“You will see Christina Alberta? When I saw you first I thought you had things to tell me—important things. One lives on such hopes here. Here—when there are no visitors—nothing happens, nothing pleasant. And one is distressed....
“I am interested to hear of those cities in Central Asia of course, but it is a little puzzling. Did you come specially about them? Or just to see me?
“You will come again. Even to come down here to this sitting-room is an event....”
Then in a swift whisper. “The food is frightful. So badly cooked. It disagrees with me....”
“That woman,” said Bobby as he went, “She has spoilt everything. I can’t stand her.”
“That woman?” said Sargon, and followed the direction of Bobby’s eyes. “Poor soul,” he said. “She’s a deaf mute. She comes to see her brother. The whole family is defective or insane.”
A maddened Bobby returned towards his little inn. Should he chuck the whole thing? Intolerable thought! He must make fresh plans—fresh plans altogether. He must begin all over again. The little man was evidently wretched. But it was going to be harder to get hold of him than Bobby had thought.