Meg raised a flushed face from her castigation of William, but the pretty colour faded quickly when she saw who the stranger was.
"Meg!" he exclaimed. "You!"
For a tense moment they stared at one another, while the children stared at the stranger. He was certainly a handsome man; melancholy, "interesting." Pale, with regular features and sleepy, smallish eyes set very near together.
"If you knew how I have searched for you," he said.
His voice was his great charm, and would have made his fortune on the stage. It could convey so much, could be so tender and beseeching, so charged with deepest sadness, so musical always.
"Your search cannot have been very arduous," Meg answered drily. "There has never been any mystery about my movements." And she looked him straight in the face.
"At first, I was afraid ... I did not try to find you."
"You were well-advised."
"Who is 'at sahib?" little Fay interrupted impatiently. "Let us go home." She had no use for any sahib who ignored her presence.
"Yes, we'd better be getting on," Meg said hurriedly, and seized the handle of the pram.