'Oh, hundreds of things. I'm not going to waste this lovely
afternoon by explaining; but I know you have. What was that heap
of manuscript you showed me about the grammar of the aboriginal
what's their names?'

'Gullals. A piece of nonsense. I've far too much work to do to
bother over Gullals now. You should see my District. Come down
with your husband some day and I'll show you round. Such a
lovely place in the Rains! A sheet of water with the
railway-embankment and the snakes sticking out, and, in the
summer, green flies and green squash. The people would die of
fear if you shook a dogwhip at 'em. But they know you're forbidden
to do that, so they conspire to make your life a burden to you. My
District's worked by some man at Darjiling, on the strength of a
native pleader's false reports. Oh, it's a heavenly place!'

Otis Yeere laughed bitterly.

'There's not the least necessity that you should stay in it. Why do
you?'

'Because I must. How'm I to get out of it?'

'How! In a hundred and fifty ways. If there weren't so many people
on the road I'd like to box your ears. Ask, my dear boy, ask! Look!
There is young Hexarly with six years' service and half your
talents. He asked for what he wanted, and he got it. See, down by
the Convent! There's McArthurson, who has come to his present
position by asking sheer, downright asking after he had pushed