Perhaps I have forgotten to say that Lindsay came to
Calcutta out of an Aberdeenshire manse, and had a mother before whose
name people wrote "The Hon." Besides, the singing had stopped, and
casual observation from the street was checked by a screen.
"I have wondered sometimes what their methods really are," said Arnold.
Their methods were just on the other side of the screen. A bullet-headed
youth, in a red coat with gold letters on the shoulder, fingering a
forage-cap, slunk out round the end of this impediment, passing the two
men beside the door, and a light, clear voice seemed to call after him--
"Ah! don't go away!"
Lindsay was visited by a flash of memory and a whimsical speculation
whether now, at the week's end, the soul of Hilda Howe was still
pursuing the broad road to perdition. The desire to enter sprang up in
him; he was reminded of a vista of some interest which had recently
revealed itself by an accident, and which he had not explored. It had
almost passed out of his memory; he grasped at it again with something
like excitement, and fell adroitly upon the half-inclination in Arnold's
voice.
"I suppose I can't expect you to go in?" he said.
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