all Simla was abroad to steal a stroll between a shower and a fog.
"How do you propose to fix that river? Look! There's The Mussuck—head of goodness knows what. He is a power in the land, though he does eat like a costermonger. There's Colonel Blone, and General Grucher, and Sir Dugald Delane, and Sir Henry Haughton, and Mr. Jellalatty. All Heads of Departments, and all powerful."
"And all my fervent admirers," said Mrs. Hauksbee piously. "Sir Henry Haughton raves about me. But go on."
"One by one, these men are worth something. Collectively, they're just a mob of Anglo-Indians. Who cares for what Anglo-Indians say? Your salon won't weld the Departments together and make you mistress of India, dear. And these creatures won't talk administrative 'shop' in a crowd—your salon—because they are so afraid of the men in the lower ranks overhearing it. They have forgotten what of Literature and Art they ever knew and the women"
"Can't talk about anything except the last Gymkhana, or the sins of their last wet-nurse. I was calling on Mrs. Derwills this morning."
"You admit that? They can talk to the subalterns though, and the subalterns can talk to them. Your salon would suit their views admirably, if you respected the religious prejudices of the country and provided plenty of places to flirt in."
"Oh, my poor little idea! Shaded nooks in a salon! But who made you so awfully clever?"
"Perhaps I've tried myself; or perhaps I know a woman who has. I have preached and expounded the whole matter and the conclusion thereof"
"You needn't go on. 'Is Vanity.' Polly, I thank you. These vermin"—Mrs. Hauksbee waved her hand from the verandah to two men in the crowd below who had raised their hats to her—"these vermin shall not rejoice in a new 'Scandal Point' or an extra Peliti's. I will abandon the
