"Ma'am?" he countered with affected humility.
"You're spoiling it all. I was so glad to see you—I'd have been glad to see any white man, of course——"
"Much obliged, I'm sure."
"And now you're actually flirting with me—or pretending to."
"I'm not," he declared soberly. "As a matter of solemn fact, I had to come to India."
"You had to?"
"On a matter of serious business. Please don't ask me what, just yet; but it's very serious, to my way of thinking. This happy accident—I count myself a very happy man to have been so fortunate—only makes my errand the more pleasant."
She regarded him intently, chin in hand, her brown eyes sedate with speculation, for some time. "I believe you've been speaking in parables," she asserted, at length. "If I'm unjust, bear with me; appearances are against you. There isn't any reason I know of why you should tell me what brought you here——"
"There's every reason, in point of fact, Miss Farrell; only … I can't explain just now."
"Very well," she agreed briskly; "let's be content with that. I am glad to see you again, truly; and—we're to travel on to Kuttarpur in the same tonga?"