The hawker was a muscular-looking, sleek, well-fed man of pale olive complexion and cheeks, which showed ruddy under the brown skin. From bushy over-hanging eyebrows peered out a pair of bold, cunning eyes, and his square chin was adorned by a dense black beard which he was wagging now in gratified approval as he selected a four-anna piece from his money-bag and held it out to the Hindu.
"Son of a pig, wouldst thou insult me with only that?" flashed Veeraswamy. "I go on to Triplicane to look for another."
"Halt, pariah dog, dost thou know that not one pie need touch thy greedy palm? I go to the Rayner compound, I display my treasures, mem-sahib buys," returned Ismail, spreading out his hands dramatically.
"For one rupee only will I sell my honour," replied Veeraswamy, raising his first finger.
"Wallah, one rupee? 'Twill need too much buying by the mem-sahib to recoup that! Here then, I give eight annas, greedy one!"
"Not one pie less than one rupee," said the butler, setting his head on one side, and planting himself on the path that led to Clive's Road.
"Take then, thou pariah dog, and a bright new coin too," said Ismail, opening his palm to part with the rupee which he had ready, knowing from the first that it would be exacted as the butler's commission.
"You will find the mem-sahib in the verandah, also mem-sahib Fellowes. They sit with pot full of gold awaiting Ismail's coming," announced Veeraswamy with a grin, as he prepared to push on his way to Triplicane.
"Where, son of a pig, where off to now? Dost thou not return with me to the mem-sahibs?" cried Ismail, with a scowl as he watched him.
"I come, I follow quickly! I go only to get some ghee for my curry from the village near by."