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`WasIbornyesterday？’Kimsquattednative-fashiononthecushionsofthatupperroom。`Alittledyestuffandthreeyardsofclothtohelpoutajest。Isitmuchtoask？’
`Whoisshe？Thouartfullyoung，asSahibsgo，forthisdevilry。’
`Oh，she？Sheisthedaughterofacertainschoolmasterofaregimentinthecantonments。HehasbeatenmetwicebecauseIwentovertheirwallintheseclothes。NowIwouldgoasagardener’sboy。Oldmenareveryjealous。’
`Thatistrue。HoldthyfacestillwhileIdabonthejuice。’
`Nottooblack，Naikan。Iwouldnotappeartoherasahubshi[nigger]。’
`Oh，lovemakesnoughtofthesethings。Andhowoldisshe？’
`Twelveyears，Ithink，’saidtheshamelessKim。`Spreaditalsoonthebreast。Itmaybeherfatherwilltearmyclothesoffme，andifI
ampiebald-’helaughed。
Thegirlworkedbusily，dabbingatwistofclothintoalittlesaucerofbrowndyethatholdslongerthananywalnut-juice。
`Now-sendoutandgetmeaclothfortheturban。Woeisme，myheadisallunshaved！Andhewillsurelyknockoffmyturban。’
`Iamnotabarber，butIwillmakeshift。Thouwastborntobeabreakerofhearts！Allthisdisguiseforoneevening？Remember，thestuffdoesnotwashaway。’Sheshookwithlaughtertillherbraceletsandankletsjingled。`Butwhoistopaymeforthis？Huneefaherselfcouldnothavegiventheebetterstuff。’
`TrustintheGods，mysister，’saidKimgravely，screwinghisfaceroundasthestaindried。`Besides，hastthoueverhelpedtopaintaSahibthusbefore？’
`Neverindeed。Butajestisnotmoney。’
`Itisworthmuchmore。’
`Child，thouartbeyondalldisputethemostshamelesssonofShaitanthatIhaveeverknowntotakeupapoorgirl’stimewiththisplay，andthentosay：`Isnotthejestenough？’Thouwiltgoveryfarinthisworld。’
Shegavethedancing-girls’salutationinmockery。
`Allone。Makehasteandrough-cutmyhead。’Kimshiftedfromfoottofoot，hiseyesablazewithmirthashethoughtofthefatdaysbeforehim。
Hegavethegirlfourannas，andrandownthestairsinthelikenessofalow-casteHinduboy-perfectineverydetail。Acookshopwashisnextpointofcall，wherehefeastedinextravaganceandgreasyluxury。
OnLucknowstationplatformhewatchedyoungDeCastro，allcoveredwithprickly-heat，getintoasecond-classcompartment。Kimpatronizedathird，andwasthelifeandsoulofit。Heexplainedtothecompanythathewasassistanttoajugglerwhohadlefthimbehindsickwithfever，andthathewouldpickuphismasteratUmballa。Astheoccupantsofthecarriagechanged，hevariedthistale，oradorneditwithalltheshootsofabuddingfancy，themorerampantforbeingheldoffnativespeechsolong。InallIndiathatnightwasnohumanbeingsojoyfulasKim。AtUmballahegotoutandheadedeastward，plashingoverthesoddenfieldstothevillagewheretheoldsoldierlived。
AboutthistimeColonelCreightonatSimlawasadvisedfromLucknowbywirethatyoungO’Harahaddisappeared。MahbubAliwasintownsellinghorses，andtohimtheColonelconfidedtheaffaironemorningcanteringroundAnnandaleracecourse。
`Oh，thatisnothing，’saidthehorse-dealer。`Menarelikehorses。
Atcertaintimestheyneedsalt，andifthatsaltisnotinthemangerstheywilllickitupfromtheearth。H
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