me?’ Rusty promised. An unaffected enthusiasm was bubbling up in Kishen; it was quite different to the sulkiness of his usual manner. Rusty had liked him in spite of the younger boy’s unattractive qualities, and now liked him more; for Kishen had taken Rusty into his home and confidence without knowing him very well and without asking any questions. Kishen was a scoundrel, a monkey—crude and well-spoilt—but for him to have taken a liking to Rusty (and Rusty held himself in high esteem), he must have some virtues . . . or so Rusty reasoned. His mind, while he walked back to Somi’s house, dwelt on his relationship with Kishen; but his tongue, when he loosened it in Somi’s presence, dwelt on Meena Kapoor. And when he lay down to sleep, he saw her in his mind’s eye, and for the first time took conscious note of her beauty, of her warmth and softness; and made up his mind that he would fall in love with her.