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sense of well-being, tried to summon her customary enthusiasm.
It might be nice, to work off some of that food, she said gamely.
I suspected that the maharaja s rather sadistic sense of humour would not
permit a gentle glide across the floor, and indeed, the band instantly set off
on one of the more vigorous modern dance-steps. I shook my head.
Perhaps we d best go and see how your mother is, I suggested in a firm
voice. The relief with which Sunny seized on this escape would have been
funny, if the very idea of laughter hadn t been so physically repugnant.
We found a servant to lead us to the Goodheart rooms, where Sunny did not
argue overmuch with her mother s prescription of early bed. I, too, escaped
the dance terrace, despite the opportunity for asking questions of
half-stunned individuals ripe for indiscretion. With the amount of sleep my
distended abdomen would be allowing me this night, the seven o clock ride
would come all too soon.
Chapter Sixteen
Aset of riding clothes awaited me in the morning, although all Itook from the
laden tray that accompanied them was a single cup of tea. I moistened my long,
mistreated hair with some almond oil that I had bought in the Simla market and
bound the plaits closely to my head. The jodhpur trousers I had asked for fit
well, and the boots, although somewhat loose around the calves, were long
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enough not to cramp my toes. I stretched my arms and shoulders against the
shirt and jacket, finding the fit just loose enough for free movement, and put
on the gloves (snug but long enough) but left the spurs where they lay. I then
picked up the hat sent for the purpose, a sort of fabric-wrapped topee, and
presented myself to the waitingchuprassi.
The servant led me into the gardens, where more servants and a motorcar stood
waiting.
How far is it to the stables? I asked. I d seen the map and didn t think it
far. Can t we walk?
Certainly,memsahib. The man closed the motorcar door obediently. It takes
fifteen minutes only.
We went out of the gate and into the morning sun, where I stopped to raise my
face to the welcome warmth. Directly across from me, separated by the chasm of
cliffs and road, were the gates of the Old Fort. The doors themselves stood
open, although there was no sign of life there. Weeds sprouted from the walls,
and from potholes in the narrow track climbing from the road.
The drive that circled New Fort s hill, on the other hand, was surfaced with
closely fitting paving stones. At the bottom, where the drive turned back on
itself to join the main road, my red-puggareed guide went right, following a
wide path that circled the hill. Halfway around, I was startled by a sudden
jungle shrieking and the sight of dozens of monkeys of various shapes and
sizes, leaping frantically around inside an enormous cage. The servant glanced
at me with mingled apology and reassurance, and I went on, even when the roar
of a lion came up nearly under my feet. The zoo, I realised: I wasn t about to
be fed to the carnivores.
A lake appeared in the distance, decorated with white birds; beyond it
stretched a great field punctuated with large grey shapes. I squinted, then
smiled in delight as they became moving creatures: elephants, thirty or more
of them, their attention centred around bright heaps of greenery. There were
even babies among the herd, indistinct, but magical even from afar.
Belatedly, I realised that my guide had stopped to wait for me, and I hurried
to catch him up. As the path continued, rooftops came into view: a lot of
rooftops, long low buildings arranged around six immense courtyards. This
could only be the maharaja s stables, but the complex was lavish, larger than
any race-track facilities I d seen.
How many horses does the maharaja own? I asked my guide.
I believe His Highness pleasures in two hundred and twenty-five, although I
am not completely certain as to the numbers. Doesmemsahibwish me to make
precise enquiries?
No, I assured him weakly. That s fine.
We walked down a wide stairway and through a magnificent archway into the
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