Nick, who watched her as tenderly as a mother, sometimes asked himself if after all he and Jim had done the right thing.  Her remoteness worried him.  She seemed to live in a world of her own, asking no questions, making no confidences.  Not that she ever barred him out.  He was well aware that she had not the vaguest desire to keep him at a distance.  But her old spontaneity, her child-like demonstrativeness, seemed to have gone, and a nameless shadow haunted the eyes that once had been so clear.

They often sat together on the verandah as now, when the day’s work was done, sometimes talking, sometimes silent, always in complete accord.

Olga’s remark that the India to which Nick had introduced her was wholly unlike her expectations had been called forth by some comment of his upon the Rajah’s exceedingly British tastes.

“I thought things would be much more primitive,” she said.

And Nick laughed, and after a long draught of whisky and soda observed that possibly they were more primitive than she imagined.  After which he stretched himself luxuriously, and asked her if she were aware that they were within a week of Christmas Day.

“Of course,” she said.  “Did you imagine I had forgotten?  It seems so strange to have nothing to do.”

He sat up very abruptly with his knees drawn up to his chin and blinked at her with extreme rapidity.  “Olga,” he said, “I believe you’re homesick.”

The colour that of old had been so quick to rise faintly tinged her face as she shook her head.  “Oh, no, Nick!  Don’t be absurd!  How could I be, with you?”

“I’m not absurd—­on this occasion,” returned Nick.

“It’s the fashion for absentees to be homesick all the world over at Christmas-time.  However, we are not bound to follow the fashion.  How are we going to celebrate the occasion?  Have you any ideas to put forward?”

“None, Nick.”

He nodded.  “That makes it all the easier for me.  Shall we give a picnic at Khantali—­you and I?  It won’t be much fag for you if you drive over with Daisy Musgrave.  Noel can take most of the provisions in his dog-cart.  He’s a useful youngster.  How does that strike you?  There is a ruined temple or a mosque at Khantali, I believe, and you like that sort of thing.”

He paused.  She was listening with far-away eyes.  “Yes, I shall like that,” she said.  “It is very nice of you to think of it.”

Nick straightened his knees and got up.  “Do you know what I would do if I had two hands, Olga mia?” he said.

She looked up questioningly.  His face was for the moment grim.

“I would take you by the shoulders and give you a jolly good shaking,” he said.

She opened her eyes in astonishment.  “Really, Nick!”

“Yes, really,” he said.  “You didn’t hear a word of what I said just now.”

“Oh, but I did!” she protested, flushing in earnest this time.  “I heard you and I answered you.”