It became more or less necessary to argue then, and the commonplaces with which I opposed him called forth a wealth of detail bearing most picturesquely upon his stay among us. I began to think he had never hated English rigidity and English snobbery until he came to Simla, and that he and Strobo and Rosario had mingled their experiences in one bitter cup. I gathered this by inference only, he was curiously watchful and reticent as to anything that had happened to him personally; indeed, he was careful to aver preferences for the society of ‘sincere’ people like Strobo and Rosario, that seemed to declare him more than indifferent to circles in which he would not meet them. In the end our argument left me ridiculously irritated--it was simply distressing to see the platform from which he obtained so wide and exquisite a view of the world upheld by such flimsy pillars--and my nerves were not soothed by his proposal to walk with me to the Club. I could hardly refuse it, however, and he came along in excellent spirits, having effected the demolition of British social ideals, root and branch. His mongrel dog accompanied, keeping offensively near our heels. It was not even an honest pi, but a dog of tawdry pretensions with a banner-like tail dishonestly got from a spaniel. On one occasion I very nearly kicked the dog.
‘The fact is,’ I said to Dora as we rode down to the gymkhana, ‘his personality takes possession of one. I constantly go to that little hut of his with intentions, benevolent or otherwise, which I never carry out.’
‘You mean,’ she answered, ‘that you completely forgot to reveal to him your hateful knowledge about Kauffer.’
‘On the contrary, I didn’t forget it for a moment. But the conversation took a turn that made it quite impossible to mention.’
‘I can understand,’ Miss Harris replied softly, ‘how that might be. And it doesn’t in the least matter,’ she went on triumphantly, ‘because I’ve told him myself.’
My nerves must have been a trifle strung up at the time, for this struck me as a matter for offense. ‘You thought I would trample upon him,’ I exclaimed.
‘No, no really. I disliked his not knowing it was known--rien de plus,’ she said lightly.
‘He might have expressed a decent regret on poor Kauffer’s account,’ I growled. Dora did not reply, and a glance showed her frowning.