"Poor little thing! But you really can't go about trying to get killed for the benefit of any stray sort of people. I am thankful I wasn't here!"
"Yes—it was just as well," her husband answered drily, as he handed her out of the jhampan. "What brought you back so early?"
"The sun was too hot. I had a headache; and we were all playing abominably. I'm going in now, to lie down."
She paused beside him, and her eyes lingered upon his empty coat-sleeve. Lifting it distastefully between finger and thumb, she glanced up at him with a droop of her delicate lips.
"When is it going to be better? I hate to see you looking all one-sided like that."
"I'm sorry," he answered humbly. "But Nature won't be persuaded to hurry herself—even to please you." He scrutinised her face with a shade of anxiety.
"You do look white, Ladybird. How would it be if I took you to Murree in a week's time?"
"It would be simply lovely! Can you do it—really? Would you let me go so soon?"
"Let you go? Do you think I want to keep you here a moment later than you care to stay?"