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He was seated at a table on the verandah of the bungalow which he shared with his brother subaltern in the small military cantonment near Rohar, the capital of the Native State of Mandha in the west of India.
As the train carried her across India her heart was still filled with anger, jealousy and almost hate of the man whom she had favoured above all others and who spurned her, dared to be faithless to her, it seemed. She did not know how much love she had left for him; for his image had grown dim in the flight of time and among the distractions of gayer stations than Rohar.
From Raymond he learned that Violet had returned to Rohar before she wrote herself. When she did she seemed to be in a brighter and more affectionate, as well as calmer, mood than she had been before her visit to Poona. But gradually her letters became less and less frequent; and Frank began to wonder with a little sense of guilty, shamed hope if she were beginning to forget him.
"Oh, I beg your pardon. I mean yes, they're sending me away from Rohar, from you. Sending me to the other side of India." The blood slowly left her face as she stared uncomprehendingly at him. "Sending you away? Why?" she asked. "Because because we're friends, little girl." "Because we're friends," she echoed. "What do you mean? But you mustn't go." "I must. I can't help it. I've got to go."
He must have loved her in Rohar, although he said that he had not. Muriel felt that she could have resigned herself more easily to his keeping his word to Violet, if the latter had been less good-looking. Mrs. Dermot broke in on her miserable thoughts. "Come, dear, we'll take the children for their walk and then go on later to the Amusement Club." "I couldn't go to the Club this evening, Noreen.
And it was delightful to have at last a sympathetic listener to all her little grievances, one who seemed as interested in her petty household worries or the delinquencies of her London milliner in failing to execute her orders properly as in her greater complaint against the fate that condemned a woman of her artistic and gaiety-loving nature to existence in the wilds and to the society of persons so uncongenial to her as were the majority of the white folk of Rohar.
"One of the servants may come in. Or my husband if people are talking scandal of us." She touched the switch of an overhead electric fan the Government of India housed its Political Officer in Rohar much more luxuriously than the military ones and sat down under it. Wargrave began to pace the room impatiently.
She wrote that, utterly weary of the dullness of Rohar, she had gone to Poona to spend part of the festive and fashionable season there and was now revelling in the many dances, dinners, theatricals and other gaieties of the lively station. Everybody was very kind to her, especially the men.
This was so unlike her. Still, he had to confess to himself that he was relieved at not yet having to cross the Rubicon. Perhaps she was right; it might be better to wait. He was glad to know that for a time at least she was away from the uncongenial surroundings of Rohar and again enjoying life.
It did not take Wargrave long to settle down again into the routine of regimental life and the humdrum existence of a small Indian station. But he had never before been quartered in so remote and dull a spot as Rohar. The only distractions it offered besides the shooting and pigsticking were two tennis afternoons weekly, one at the Residency, the other at the Mess.
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