of shame and was openly frayed at the edges. In fact, you couldn't have called him a wholesome-looking being, whichever way you looked at him. And as I think I've said before, I've a great weakness for clean wholesome looking people.
I suppose Berengaria's husband had been young once, but I guess he was one of those old young men who never were young. He had done nearly thirty years' service in India, and his chief boast was that he had only been home three times all through. He was something like twenty years older than Berengaria, and again I fell to wondering, as I so often do when I meet a married couple for the first time, why on earth they went and did it.
'John,' said Berengaria, as she went round to feed the pony with a piece of sugar cane that one of the gorgeous red and gold chaprassis had produced, 'this is Nicola's first glimpse of the Mofussil, so we must make Slumpanugger look its best.'
'I'm afraid you'll find it very quiet here,' John said in a meek little voice, turning to me, 'but as the Mofussil will be quite new to you perhaps you may find it interesting.'
Now, I hadn't the remotest idea what the Mofussil meant, but, of course, I smiled and said I was sure to find it perfectly fascinating. I'm always a bit in doubt as to what to do when I don't know what people are talking about, whether it's best to say right out that you don't know what they mean or just to nod and smile and look as intelli-
