“Poona,” he said, reaching for the decanter of whisky to his right. He poured us each a healthy two fingers and handed me my glass. “Normally it’s four or five hours, but there were accidents and heavy rain.”

“What were you doing in Poona?”

“I have business there.”

“You know, I’ve never asked you what you do.”

“Import-export. Dull stuff. The roads from Poona, on the other hand, are quite exciting indeed. One risks one’s life at least twenty times on the journey. It’s a terrifying experience if you don’t train your driver to take care. The roads in the flats are filled with holes and clogged with traffic. But those are minor annoyances. It’s when you climb the ghats.”

“Ghats?”

“The mountains that rise up from the plains to the plateau. Like steps. The road switches back and forth, and there are only two lanes. Very tight. That doesn’t stop the lorries from overtaking with little or no room. And the margin for error is small. I’ve seen cars and buses tumble over the edge to their doom.”

“That sounds terrifying.”

He smiled and nodded, baring his long teeth. Then he raised his glass to cheer me. “A good driver will turn back into his lane at the last second.”

“And you drive yourself?”

“Of course not. I can’t get used to driving on the left side. Better to have an Indian driver in any case, especially if you have an accident. A Westerner will be taken for everything he’s got on him.”

Sushmita returned, appearing above us in a sheer pajama. It was hot, of course, but did I really need to contemplate her curves and skin in such proximity? With Willy standing by to witness and dissect every one of my reactions?

“What may I pour for you, my darling?” he asked Sushmita. “Fresh lime soda?”

Sushmita plopped down next to me on the sofa and fanned herself with her hand. She was a mere twelve inches away. I couldn’t help but breathe in her scent.

“I’d like some … absinthe,” she said at length.

Willy laughed. “Not permitted, my love. And we haven’t any besides.”

She pouted.

“How was your evening with Mita?” Willy asked me. “Not too much trouble?”

“Trouble? Not at all,” I said. “We met a colleague of mine and her friend at the gymkhana.”

“She didn’t bore you?”

“I beg your pardon. Who?”

“Mita,” he said, as if it weren’t obvious.

“Just the opposite. She was charming as always. Made a wonderful impression on my colleague.”

“Good. Drink up, Danny Boy,” he said. “It’s still early.”

I thanked him, but said it was past my bedtime. Of course I wanted to stay, but Sushmita’s nearness was driving me mad.