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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"

Half a minute brought us
within fifty yards of the 'rickshaw. I pulled my Waler and fell back a little.
The 'rickshaw was directly in the middle of the road; and once more the Arab
passed through it, my horse following. "Jack! Jack dear! Please forgive me,"
rang with a wail in my ears, and, after an interval:--"It's a mistake, a
hideous mistake!"
I spurred my horse like a man possessed. When I turned my head at the
Reservoir works, the black and white liveries were still waiting--patiently
waiting--under the grey hillside, and the wind brought me a mocking echo of
the words I had just heard. Kitty bantered me a good deal on my silence
throughout the remainder of the ride. I had been talking up till then wildly
and at random.
To save my life I could not speak afterward naturally, and from Sanjowlie to
the Church wisely held my tongue.
I was to dine with the Mannerings that night, and had barely time to canter
home to dress. On the road to Elysium Hill I overheard two men talking
together in the dusk.--"It's a curious thing," said one, "how completely all
trace of it disappeared. You know my wife was insanely fond of the woman
('never could see anything in her myself), and wanted me to pick up her old
'rickshaw and coolies if they were to be got for love or money.


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