Lady Strife sighed.
"It's very disturbing, my dear, very disturbing—for me, that's to say. And as for your father, I expect he'll be furious. He hates things happening in a disorderly way and people being in the wrong place."
"I'm sorry," said Tony, "but I'll work all the time I'm here, so I really shan't lose anything by it."
"Well, it's not your fault, of course," rather doubtfully. "Come and give me a kiss," she added, realising that the ceremony had been omitted.
"How are you, mother?"
"Oh, about the same, thank you. Weak of body, but not, I trust, weak of soul. I am wonderfully comforted by this little book of Sakrata Balkrishna's. Our soul, he says, Tony, sits within us as a watcher, holding aloof from the poor, suffering body, and weaving a new mantle of flesh for its next Manvantara."
"Buddhism?..." asked Tony awkwardly.
"Buddhism! My dear child—as if I would have anything to do with that modern corruption of pure Brahminical faith! No, Antoinette, this is the ancient Vedantin philosophy, as old as the world. By the way, has your box come?"
"Yes. I brought it with me in the taxi."
"The taxi! You were lucky to find one at the station."