"It was ..." She had been about to say "duty" and thought better of it. She tried to look at him normally and failed. Her gaze fixed rigidly on his eyes as if she were afraid it would slide off to his disfigured flesh or his absent arm. "It was something I always intended," she finished lamely. "I have just been... er..."

"Of course," He struggled to help her, hideously conscious of her revulsion. "We were all terribly grieved to hear of Major Hanning's death at Gwalior. We lost so many friends it seemed as if the grief would never stop—stop increasing."

"Yes..." She still had no idea what to say to him. If she had had it all clear in her mind before she came, the reality of his injuries had scattered it from her. "It must have been dreadful for you. My husband ..." She swallowed and gulped. "My husband always mentioned you with great regard." It sounded appallingly formal, as if she were a senior officer's wife making a duty call with no idea and no feeling for the events or emotions of which she spoke. She was floundering, and they all knew it.

Where was Hester? She would know how to say something which could bring them back to honesty. Monk looked over Mrs. Hanning's shoulder and saw first Perdita, ashen-faced, then Hester beyond her. She shook her head minutely.

He nodded, tightening his lips. Why was she letting this go on? It was agonizing!

"He would," Gabriel replied, still holding Mrs. Hanning's gaze, almost unblinking. "He was a generous man, and we were friends. We shared many struggles together, many experiences. We had good friends in common ... whom we lost." His face was full of emotion and memory. "He loved India. He loved the land, the nights, the smells of spices and dust and everything growing." He half smiled and his voice became even softer. "Once you have felt the heat and life of the jungle you don't ever forget it. Or the markets. The noise, the—" He stopped abruptly. She could not believe him. Unlike Perdita, she had been to India, but only to the sheltered hill posts, and then she had mixed only with other officers' wives.

"I think you are—are mistaken. You must have him confused with someone else." She made herself smile in return, remembering he was wounded. Perhaps his mind was affected. Yes, that would explain everything. The thoughts were as transparent on her face as if she had spoken them aloud.

Monk glanced at Hester. Still she remained silent.

Perdita moved forward, her hands clutched in front of her, her voice trembling.