"Or knaves," said the Dragon-Fly, wisely. And with that she stretched up
her arms above her head and laughed again. "Now I know what it feels
like," she said, "to have risen from the dead."




CHAPTER III

COMRADES


There came the flash of green wings in the cypresses and a raucous
scream of jubilation as the boldest parakeet in the compound flew off
with the choicest sweetmeat on the tiffin-table in the veranda. There
were always sweets at tiffin in the major's bungalow. Mrs. Merryon loved
sweets. She was wont to say that they were the best remedy for
homesickness she knew.

Not that she ever was homesick. At least, no one ever suspected such a
possibility, for she had a smile and a quip for all, and her laughter
was the gayest in the station. She ran out now, half-dressed, from her
bedroom, waving a towel at the marauder.

"That comes of being kind-hearted," she declared, in the deep voice that
accorded so curiously with the frothy lightness of her personality.
"Everyone takes advantage of it, sure."

Her eyes were grey and Irish, and they flashed over the scene