"Tavernake—Robert Tavernake."
"I forgot we hadn't been introduced. My name is Dana Charteris. I was going to say that this is like a fairy tale to me—some 'Arabian Nights' story. Since I was a child I've wanted to travel—to see Aladdin's palace and Sinbad's islands—and now I'm doing it. I lived in a town called Bayou Latouche, in Louisiana, U. S. A., and, you know, Bayou Latouche scarcely prepares one for this!"—with a gesture. "It reminds me of carnival in New Orleans."
"You've not been disillusioned?"
"In India? No."
"Of course you have visited Agra."
"No, I haven't seen the Taj. It's a frightful confession to make, isn't it?"
He reflected upon the question and decided:
"It's rather jolly to find some one who's traveled in India without seeing the Taj. Sort of different. But I forgot to ask where you wanted to go. For some reason I took it for granted that you're staying at the Grand."
"That's almost clairvoyant; I am stopping there."
When he had instructed the gharry-wallah, she asked: