Dora did not reply. She is a person of energy and determination,
and might have been expected to offer to cooperate gladly. But she
didn't.

'He is painting a large picture for next season's exhibition,' she
informed me. 'I was not allowed to see it or to know anything about
it, but he declares it will bring Simla down.'

'I hope not,' I said, piously.

'Oh, I hope so. I have told him,' Dora continued, slowly, 'that a
great deal depends on it.'

'Here is Mrs. Symons,' I was able to return, 'and I am afraid she is
looking for you.'

March came, and the city lay white under its own dust. The electric
fans began to purr in the Club, and Lent brought the flagging season
to a full stop. I had to go that year on tour through the famine
district with the Member, and we escaped, gasping, from the Plains
about the middle of April. Simla was crimson with rhododendron
blossoms, and seemed a spur of Arcady. There had been the usual
number of flittings from one house to another, and among them I
heard with satisfaction that Armour no longer occupied Amy Villa. I
would not for the world have blurred my recollections of that last
evening--I could not have gone there again.

'He is staying with Sir William Lamb,' said Dora, handing me my cup
of tea. 'And I am quite jealous. Sir William, only Sir William,