'Go back! Withdraw!' Kim cried. 'Do we eat publicly like dogs?'
They finished the meal in silence, each turned a little from the
other, and Kim topped it with a native-made cigarette.

'Have I not said an hundred times that the South is a good land?
Here is a virtuous and high-born widow of a Hill Rajah on
pilgrimage, she says, to Buddha Gay. She it is sends us those
dishes; and when thou art well rested she would speak to thee.'

'Is this also thy work?' The lama dipped deep into his snuff-gourd.

'Who else watched over thee since our wonderful journey began?'
Kim's eyes danced in his head as he blew the rank smoke through his
nostrils and stretched him on the dusty ground. 'Have I failed to
oversee thy comforts, Holy One?'

'A blessing on thee.' The lama inclined his solemn head. 'I have
known many men in my so long life, and disciples not a few. But to
none among men, if so be thou art woman-born, has my heart gone out
as it has to thee - thoughtful, wise, and courteous; but something
of a small imp.'

'And I have never seen such a priest as thou.' Kim considered the
benevolent yellow face wrinkle by wrinkle. 'It is less than three
days since we took the road together, and it is as though it were a
hundred years.'

'Perhaps in a former life it was permitted that I should have
rendered thee some service. Maybe' - he smiled - 'I freed thee from