"If," said Tony, as though after deep thought, "she gets very chubbelsome, you send for me. Then I will go to her and say 'Jāŏ!'" Tony followed this up by some fluent Hindustani which, had Jan but known it, seriously reflected on the character of Hannah's female ancestry. "I'll say 'Jāŏ!'," he went on. "I'll say it several times very loud, and point to the door. Then she'll roll up her bedding, and you'll give her money and her chits, and she will depart."
They had reached a seat. On this Jan sank, for the vision of Tony pointing majestically down the drive while little Hannah staggered into the distance under a rolled-up mattress, was too much for her.
"But I don't want her to go," she gasped. "I love her dearly."
"She should not speak to you like that; she scolded you," he said firmly. "She is a servant ... She is a servant?" he added doubtfully.
"How much did you hear of what she said? Did you understand?"
"I came back directly to fetch you, I thought she sounded cross. Mummy was afraid when people were cross; she liked me to be with her. I thought you would like me to be with you. If she was very rude I could beat her. I beat the boy—not Peter's boy, our boy—he was rude to Mummy. He did not dare to touch me because I am a sahib ... I will beat Hannah if you like."
Tony stood in front of Jan, very earnest, with an exceedingly pink nose, for the wind was keen. He had never before said so much at one time.
"Shall I go back and beat her?" he asked again.
"Certainly not," Jan cried, clutching Tony lest he should fly off there and then. "We don't do such things here at home. Nobody is beaten, ever. I'm sure Peter never beats his servants."
"No," Tony allowed. "A big sahib must not strike a servant, but I can, and I do if they are rude. She was rude about Meg."