"Till a minute ago ... Mr. Ledgard ... why did you stay? It was angelic of you, but you must be so dreadfully tired. I feel absolutely rested and, oh, so grateful—but so ashamed...."
"Then you must have some tea," said Peter, inconsequently. "I'll go and rouse up Lalkhan and the cook. We can't get any ourselves, for he locks up the whole show every blessed night."
In the East burial follows death with the greatest possible speed. Peter and the doctor and
the nurse arranged everything. A friend of Peter's who had little children sent for Ayah and Tony and little Fay to spend the day, and Jan was grateful.
Fay and her baby were laid in the English cemetery, and Jan was left to face the children as best she could.
They had been happy, Ayah said, with the kind lady and her children. Tony went straight to his mother's room, the room that had been closed to him for three whole days.
He came back to Jan and stood in front of her, searching her face with his grave, judging gaze.
"What have you done with my Mummy?" he asked. "Have you carried her away and put her somewhere like you do Fay when she's naughty? You're strong enough."
"Oh, Tony!" Jan whispered piteously. "I would have kept her if I could, but I wasn't strong enough for that."