"Rajah Sahib," stammered the young fellow, in helpless confusion, "if
I had known you were there—"
"You would not have revealed your trouble to me?" Nehal finished, with a faint smile. "And that, I think, would have been a pity for us both. If I can help you, perhaps you can help me." He paused and then added slowly: "I have been standing watching you a long time."
"A long time!" A curious fear crept over the boyish face. "You saw us playing, then—and heard what we said?"
"Yes."
"And you wish to help me?"
"If I can."
Geoffries turned his head away, avoiding the direct gaze.
"You are very kind, Rajah Sahib. I'm afraid I'm not to be helped."
The sight of that awkward shame and misery drove all personal grief from Nehal's mind. He drew forward a chair and seated himself opposite his companion, clasping his sinewy, well-shaped hands on the table before him.
"Let us try and put all formalities aside," he said. "If you can treat me as a friend, let nothing prevent you. We are strangers to each other, but then the whole world is stranger to me. Yet I would be glad to help and understand the world, as I would be glad to help and understand you if you will let me."