He laughed as he swung himself out of his saddle.
"You didn't expect me, did you?" he asked gaily.
Anne ran down to meet him. She kissed at first rapturously and then with a little shudder of irrepressible disgust.
"Oh, Tris, a beard again! And you smell horrid—of horses and—and natives and things—you look a perfect sight. What have you been doing?"
"Not washing, anyhow. You remember that bath I had just before I went? Well, it was my last. Been too busy for such foibles of an effete generation. Hullo, Meredith. Glad to see you. Not going, are you?"
"I must; I've been here hours."
"Anne was jolly glad of your company, I expect. I'm coming round some day to give you the benefit of my medical genius. I believe I know more about things than a lot of your high-brow Calcutta folk."
"I don't fancy even you can do much," Meredith replied. "I'm a bad job. But it's good of you all the same. Good night."
"Good night."
Anne would have watched till the white-clad figure had disappeared, but Tristram put his arm about her and drew her into the room. He was momentarily serious.