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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"From Mine Own People"

Very much
against my will, and because of the darkness of the rooms, I went into the
naked drawing-room, telling my man to bring the lights. There might or might
not have been a caller in the room--it seems to me that I saw a figure by one
of the windows, but when the lights came there was nothing save the spikes of
the rain without and the smell of the drinking earth in my nostrils. I
explained to my man that he was no wiser than he ought to be, and went back to
the veranda to talk to Tietjens. She had gone out into the wet and I could
hardly coax her back to me--even with biscuits with sugar on top. Strickland
rode back, dripping wet, just before dinner, and the first thing he said was:
Has any one called?"
I explained, with apologies, that my servant had called me into the drawing-
room on a false alarm; or that some loafer had tried to call on Strickland,
and, thinking better of it, fled after giving his name. Strickland ordered
dinner without comment, and since it was a real dinner, with white tablecloth
attached, we sat down.
At nine o'clock Strickland wanted to go to bed, and I was tired too. Tietjens,
who had been lying underneath the table, rose up and went into the least
exposed veranda as soon as her master moved to his own room, which was next to
the stately chamber set apart for Tietjens.


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