sister thinks of Kashmir. I went up there on a shooting expedition two
years after I came out. It's a fine country."

"Is there anywhere that you haven't been?" said Tommy. "I believe you'll
write a book one of these days."

Monck looked ironical. "Not till I'm on the shelf, Tommy," he said,
"where there's nothing better to do."

"You'll never be on the shelf," said Tommy quickly. "You'll be much too
valuable."

Monck shrugged his shoulders slightly and turned to go. "I doubt if that
consideration would occur to any one but you, my boy," he said.

They walked to the mess-house together a little later through the
airless dark, and there was nothing in Monck's manner either then or
during the evening to confirm the doubt in Tommy's mind. Spirits were
not very high at the mess just then. Nearly all the women had left for
the Hills, and the increasing heat was beginning to make life a burden.
The younger officers did their best to be cheerful, and one of them,
Bertie Oakes, a merry, brainless youngster, even proposed an impromptu
dance to enliven the proceedings. But he did not find many supporters.
Men were tired after the polo. Colonel Mansfield and Major Burton were
deeply engrossed with some news that had been brought by Barnes of the
Police, and no one mustered energy for more than talk.

Tommy soon decided to leave early and return to his letters. Before
departing, he looked round for Monck as was his custom, but finding that
he and Captain Ermsted had also been drawn into the discussion with the