By Harry De Windt
It's growing to be darkish. Already a wintry desert of backyard with no upon which snow and sleet are pitilessly beating is only discernible.
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Extra resources for A Ride to India Across Persia and Baluchistán
You are still young, though. ’ ‘Take her with you,’ said Benedict. ‘She has served you well. It is a good profession. ’ said Juno with a short laugh. ’ Benedict looked hurt. ‘It’s not you,’ said Juno hurriedly. ‘It’s me. Our performances have been as successful as ever. These Urbs Umidians seem to have an insatiable appetite for Madame de Bona’s predictions. It’s just sometimes . ’ Her voice tailed off. Benedict nodded his head. ‘I do understand. ’ ‘But some of them are suffering,’ said Juno. ’ Juno chewed her lip thoughtfully.
Juno smiled. ‘You have done enough. ’ ‘And I could say the same about you. No matter. Think about what I said. You do not have to give up; it’s your choice. ’ Juno nodded. ’ ‘I shall be fine after I have rested,’ said Benedict, deliberately misinterpreting her question. He went to the door and looked at her with a critical eye. ‘You should get some rest too. ’ He left and Juno turned back to the fire. Benedict had only told her what she already knew. He needed rest and good food and somewhere to stay for the winter.
It is foolhardy to stay any longer. If we are found—’ ‘Of course,’ he said and hiccuped. Mr Pantagus opened the door and fresh cold air rushed in. Juno pushed Mr Belding towards Mr Pantagus, who pulled him through the door. She made as if to follow but suddenly stopped in her tracks, crossed over to the bench and stared right into my unblinking eyes. She was so close I could see an eyelash on her cheek. She smelt of juniper, I remember, but then she was gone. Chapter Seven A Good Profession Juno stood at the tiny window that allowed the daylight into her room.