For two months
the Rains had hidden the Dosehri hills and many other things besides; but when
they lifted, they showed Mrs. Boulte that her man among men, her Ted--for she
called him Ted in the old days when Boulte was out of earshot--was slipping
the links of the allegiance.
"The Vansuythen Woman has taken him," Mrs. Boulte said to herself; and when
Boulte was away, wept over her belief, in the face of the over-vehement
blandishments of Ted. Sorrow in Kashima is as fortunate as Love, because there
is nothing to weaken it save the flight of Time. Mrs. Boulte had never
breathed her suspicion to Kurrell because she was not certain; and her nature
led her to be very certain before she took steps in any direction. That is why
she behaved as she did.
Boulte came into the house one evening, and leaned against the door-posts of
the drawing-room, chewing his moustache. Mrs. Boulte was putting some flowers
into a vase. There is a pretence of civilization even in Kashima.
"Little woman," said Boulte, quietly, "do you care for me?"
"Immensely," said she, with a laugh. "Can you ask it?"
"But I'm serious," said Boulte. "Do you care for me?"
Mrs. Boulte dropped the flowers, and turned round quickly. "Do you want an
honest answer?"
"Ye-es, I've asked for it.
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