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Rh and I spent the whole day with a volume of Dana Gibson's drawings, the only book I could find. I did go for a short walk, but the dust was nearly knee-deep, and, except the little bungalow and outhouses, there was absolutely nothing to see.

Yesterday again Boggley had to go and inspect some place, so it was decided he would bicycle there, and then pick me up at some station we had to change at on our way to Manpur. I drove to the station in Mr. Ferris's little dogcart—alone. Mr. Ferris said he was so sorry he had an engagement, but I think myself it was simply that he couldn't face the eight miles alone with me.

The groom, instead of sitting behind, ran behind, and as the pony was fresh he had to run pretty fast. There were two roads—a pukka or made road, and a cutcha road, on which the natives walked and drove their ekkas.

Autolycus and the chuprassis were waiting at the station, and put me into a carriage. They went straight on to Manpur with the luggage instead of waiting at the station where we changed trains. It was ten o'clock when I got out of the train, and Boggley had said he would be no later than half-past eleven; then we would have luncheon, and get the one o'clock train to Manpur. I went