none-too-holy

Updated: August 14, 2026

Warrington laughed sympathetically; for the fear was genuine and candidly expressed. The babu continued scratching. "To the right," he said after a while, and the risaldar drove to the right, toward where a Hindu temple cast deep shadows, and a row of trees stood sentry in spasmodic moonlight. In front of the temple, seated on a mat, was a wandering fakir of the none-too-holy type.

Talbot Mundy - The Winds of the World