'Not too black, Naikan. I would not appear to her as a hubshi
(nigger).'

'Oh, love makes nought of these things. And how old is she?'

'Twelve years, I think,' said the shameless Kim. 'Spread it also on
the breast. It may be her father will tear my clothes off me, and
if I am piebald -' he laughed.

The girl worked busily, dabbing a twist of cloth into a little
saucer of brown dye that holds longer than any walnut-juice.

'Now send out and get me a cloth for the turban. Woe is me, my head
is all unshaved! And he will surely knock off my turban.'

'I am not a barber, but I will make shift. Thou wast born to be a
breaker of hearts! All this disguise for one evening? Remember, the
stuff does not wash away.' She shook with laughter till her
bracelets and anklets jingled. 'But who is to pay me for this?
Huneefa herself could not have given thee better stuff.'

'Trust in the Gods, my sister,' said Kim gravely, screwing his face
round as the stain dried. 'Besides, hast thou ever helped to paint
a Sahib thus before?'

'Never indeed. But a jest is not money.'

'It is worth much more.'

'Child, thou art beyond all dispute the most shameless son of