"You didn't send rugs enough," she began. "Adam might have taken
a chill."
"It's quite warm in the tonneau. Why did you let him ride in
front? "
"Because he wanted to," she replied, with the mother's smile, and
we were introduced to the shadow of a young man leaning heavily
on the shoulder of a bearded Punjabi Mohammedan.
"That is all that came home of him," said his father to me. There
was nothing in it of the child with whom I had journeyed to
Dalhousie centuries since."
"And what is this uniform?" Stalky asked of Imam Din, the
servant, who came to attention on the marble floor.
"The uniform of the Protectorate troops, Sahib. Though I am the
Little Sahib's body-servant, it is not seemly for us white men to
be attended by folk dressed altogether as servants."
"And--and you white men wait at table on horseback?" Stalky
pointed to the man's spurs.
"These I added for the sake of honour when I came to England,"
said Imam Din Adam smiled the ghost of a little smile that I
began to remember, and we put him on the big couch for
refreshments.
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