The Tertium Quid flew down-hill on horseback, but it was to meet the Man's
Wife; and when he flew up-hill it was for the same end. The Man was in the
Plains, earning money for his Wife to spend on dresses and four-hundred-rupee
bracelets, and inexpensive luxuries of that kind. He worked very hard, and
sent her a letter or a post-card daily. She also wrote to him daily, and said
that she was longing for him to come up to Simla. The Tertium Quid used to
lean over her shoulder and laugh as she wrote the notes. Then the two would
ride to the Post Office together.
Now, Simla is a strange place and its customs are peculiar; nor is any man who
has not spent at least ten seasons there qualified to pass judgment on
circumstantial evidence. which is the most untrustworthy in the Courts. For
these reasons, and for others which need not appear, I decline to state
positively whether there was anything irretrievably wrong in the relations
between the Man's Wife and the Tertium Quid. If there was, and hereon you must
form your own opinion, it was the Man's Wife's fault. She was kittenish in her
manners, wearing generally an air of soft and fluffy innocence. But she was
deadly learned and evil-instructed; and, now and again, when the mask dropped,
men saw this, shuddered and almost drew back.
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