Winds of the World (PDF, MOBI, EPUB, FB2, TEXT)
Ranjoor Singh seemed not to hear her; he was watching other men who
entered, and listening to the sound of yet others on the stairs. No
other Sikh came in, nor more than one of any other caste or tribe;
yet he counted thirty men in half as many minutes.
"I think you are a buffalo!" she said at last; but if Ranjoor Singh
was interested in her thoughts he forgot to admit it.
A dozen more men entered, and the air, already heavy, grew thick
with tobacco smoke mingling with the smoke of sandal-wood that
floated back and forth in layers as the punkahs swung lazily.
Outside, the rain swished and chilled the night air; but the hot air
from inside hurried out to meet the cool, and none of the cool came
in. The noise of rain became depressing until Yasmini made a signal
to her maids and they started to make music.
Then Yasmini caught a new sound on the stairs, and swiftly,
instantly, instead of glancing to the entrance, her eyes sought
Ranjoor Singh's; and she saw that he had heard it too. So she
