The phantom
'rickshaw and I went side by side along the Chota Simla road in silence. Close
to the bazar, Kitty and a man on horseback overtook and passed us. For any
sign she gave I might have been a dog in the road. She did not even pay me the
compliment of quickening her pace; though the rainy afternoon had served for
an excuse.
So Kitty and her companion, and I and my ghostly Light-o'-Love, crept round
Jakko in couples. The road was streaming with water; the pines dripped like
roof-pipes on the rocks below, and the air was full of fine, driving rain. Two
or three times I found myself saying to myself almost aloud:"I'm Jack Pansay
on leave at Simla--at Simla! Everyday, ordinary Simla. I mustn't forget that--
I mustn't forget that." Then I would try to recollect some of the gossip I had
heard at the Club: the prices of So-and-So's horses--anything, in fact, that
related to the workaday Anglo-Indian world I knew so well. I even repeated the
multiplication-table rapidly to myself, to make quite sure that I was not
taking leave of my senses. It gave me much comfort; and must have prevented my
hearing Mrs. Wessington for a time.
Once more I wearily climbed the Convent slope and entered the level road. Here
Kitty and the man started off at a canter, and I was left alone with Mrs.
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