Champak was too angry to talk. She just looked out of the window. Sher Singh came to her and put his arms round her shoulders. ‘Don’t be cross. How could I have known you were coming?’

‘This is what you do when I am away.’

Champak covered her nose with her handkerchief; the reek of raw onions was overpowering. Sher Singh kissed her on the back of her neck and then on the cheeks. She shook herself free. ‘Now I suppose it is my turn. I am just the wife you can have whenever you want . . . after you’ve had your own good time,’ she said bitterly. The suspicion of infidelity amused Sher Singh. He became more amorous. ‘I am not like one of those chaps . . . like your Madan,’ he said laughing. ‘That type go about sleeping with anyone they can. For me it is only you. I was at a meeting, that is why I am late. If I had known you were coming I would have left it and come straight home.’

The reference to Madan changed Champak’s attitude. ‘I’ve been waiting for you all day. I nearly died of worry,’ she complained. ‘You must not be out late these days. These are dangerous times.’

Sher Singh promised not to be late again. They forgave each other in their usual way. Only Champak kept thinking how different this was from the evening before. That man’s breath was perfumed with cardamoms and scented betel nuts; and this man’s! She could not avoid smelling the onions even when she breathed through her mouth.

The orderly took Buta Singh’s cycle from him and stood it against the wall. Buta Singh unfastened the metal bands he wore round his shins to save his trousers being soiled and put them in his pocket. ‘Have the others come?’ he asked.

‘Yes, sir, but not all; the Sahib is waiting for them. He has ordered me to inform him as soon as everyone is here. Please sit down.’ He held up the heavy khas fibre chick. Buta Singh ducked under it and joined his fellow magistrates. They stood up to shake hands with him.

‘Buta Singh, give us some news. You are in the know. What itches the Sahib today?’

It was a Muslim colleague and with Muslims it was not wise to be honest about politics. They pretended to be against the idea of Pakistan when they were with non-Muslims but gave it their support in every way they could.

‘It must be the arrests of the Nationalist leaders. I suppose he expects trouble in the city,’ answered Buta Singh.

‘The police brought papers of some of these Gandhi disciples to my house yesterday,’ continued the Muslim a little maliciously. ‘I sentenced them to six months’ detention under the Defence of India Rules.’