They talked. The old gentleman told stories that he could not tell. He was a failure all around.
"I have seen great doings in India, sir—great doings."
Beyond that his imagination did not go.
The towering young man was full of life, ambition, and hope—he had nothing in common with the wreck of these things. Yet he was drawn to the old gentleman. He squired him like a son. And the two became real friends. Both were going home.
"I have seen great doings in India, sir—great doings," said the old gentleman.
The young man thought of a letter, and the moon on the Taj. He, too, had seen great doings in India.
