“True. Even a prodigy such as young O’Hara concealed his interest by pretending to an alternative preoccupation, not by showing no interest at all.”

This was rather too complex for my drowsy state; after a minute, I let it go, and murmured instead, “Do you think we’ll find him?”

“O’Hara? If he’s there, and if he wishes to be found, yes.”

“And what shall we do then?”

I felt Holmes’ fingers on my hair, following the shape of my long night-time plait, before he answered. “We will bring him back. And if he does not wish to come, I shall look him in the eye and ask him why.”

It snowed during the night, two inches of dry flakes that rose up around our boots and blew like spring blossoms. Bindra took one look at it and dug in his heels like a startled mule.

“Oah, that does not look at all good.”

“It’s just snow,” I told him. “Frozen rain.”

“I know snow, thank you,” he retorted with some force. “I will be staying inside today. When you return, I shall be able to keep the blue ball in the air.”

I rather doubted he’d convince the cook to allow him to juggle in her warm kitchen, but I wasn’t about to argue. I buttoned my heavy skin-lined coat and scurried to catch Holmes up.

The boots of the plains people were not adequate for walking on the cobbles of a hill-side town covered in snow, and I was glad when we stopped at the corner of two roads that fed into the Mall. I stared up at the town, astonished. With the snow, it looked more like Switzerland than sub-continent, all peaked chalet roofs and carved frontispieces.

“Holmes, this place is extraordinary.”

“No English!” he chided, then added, “You ought to see it in the summer. It looks as if you’d plucked up the inhabitants of a Tibetan town and set them down in Surrey.”

Holmes pulled the mirrored balls from about his person and set to juggling them; I left my hands deep in my coat pockets.

“What are we doing here, Holmes?”

“Waiting to attract attention. Even in the busy summer we could not risk going openly into the Survey offices. We must wait until someone comes to see what we are about.”

“Shouldn’t we go a little closer?” I asked. We were still among the ramshackle buildings of the native bazaar, before the road widened into the sloping plaza.

“If we did, we’d risk being thrown out, even in the winter season. No native is permitted there except on business.”

I sighed, drew my hands from their warm nests, and prepared to catch whatever he might throw me.