The lad wrenches his ears free and runs away. The boys and girls scamper away after him. The cyclist cycles off. The other men melt away. There’s the master race for you! There’s a woman who, although she has no breasts to speak of, could give suck to a regiment of Grenadier Guards!

‘That’s that!’ she says triumphantly slapping imaginary dust off her hands. ‘Now I’d like to see a bit of the countryside. The river couldn’t be very far from here.’

‘A brisk hour’s walk.’

‘Let’s go.’

We set our course eastwards. We go through the palm grove and out into open country. We skirt a swamp. We wade through water courses. The ground becomes sandy. Stunted thuja and casuarina. A herd of deer come bouncing into view and bounce away towards Tilpat. A black buck, its antlers spiralling into the air, comes to a stop a few yards ahead of us. Hoity-Toity raises her arms, takes aim and says ‘Bang.’ The buck turns its back on us. It has been hit; blood trickles down its rump. It ambles away slowly and sinks exhausted behind a cluster of dark casuarinas. A jeepload of Sikhs armed with rifles and shotguns comes zig-zagging through the bushes. ‘Sardarji, did you see a herd of deer go by?’ one asks me in Punjabi. He sees the white woman and adds in English, ‘And a big black buck. I am sure I hit it.’

I point towards the river: ‘Just this moment. It cannot have gone very far.’

‘Thanks, thanks.’ The jeep races on towards the river.

‘I’d put those bloody shikaris against the wall . . . .’

Hoity-Toity smiles. Her blue eyes sparkle. ‘No bang, bang. She gives me a patronizing pat on my beard.

‘When I was a boy there were herds of blue bull and wild pig within a mile of the city walls. Tigers were seen on the Ridge behind Rashtrapati Bhavan where Your Ladyship is staying. There were hares, partridges, and peacocks in our parks. As for deer, I remember seeing herds fifty strong not twenty miles from here. Today you can’t see anything within a hundred miles of Delhi. These foreign bastards with diplomatic privileges have shot all our game. If I had my way, I would shoot the bloody lot.’

‘Those chaps in the jeep looked more like your own kind than foreign bastards,’ she says.

‘I’d shoot them too.’