Then she sat up straight, and
laughed very prettily and sweetly. It was the salute, she thought
in her fever; the Viceroy was coming; there would be all sorts of
gay doings in the station. When the shell exploded that tore up
the wall of the hut, she asked Tooni for her new blue silk with the
flounces, the one that had been just sent out from England, and her
kid slippers with the rosettes. Tooni, wiping away her helpless
tears with the edge of her head covering, had said, 'Na, memsahib,
na!' and stroked the hot hand that pointed, and then the mistress
had forgotten again. As to the little pink baby, three days old,
it blinked and throve and slept as if it had been born in its
father's house to luxury and rejoicing.
Tooni questioned the goat-keeper; but he had seen three sahibs
killed that morning, and was stupid with fear. He did not even
know of the Nana Sahib's order that the English were to be allowed
to go away in boats; and this was remarkable, because he lived in
the bazar outside, and in the bazar people generally know what is
going to happen long before the sahibs who live in the tall white
houses do. Tooni had only her own reflections.
There would be no more shooting, and the Nana Sahib would let them
all go away in boats; that was good khaber--good news.
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