"The horses should be here in a few minutes," he said hopefully,
after a while, for he heard a door open.
Then babu Sita Ram burst in, half running, and holding his great
stomach as he always did when in a hurry.
"Oh, my God!" he wailed. "Quick! Where is German gentleman? And not
knowing German, how shall I make meaning clear? German should be
reckoned among dead languages and--Ah! My God, sir, you astonish me!
Resemblance to Mohammedan of no particular standing in community is
first class! How shall I--"
"Say it in English!" said the German, blocking his way.
"My God, sahib, it is bad news! How shall I avoid customaree stigma
attaching to bearer of ill tidings?"
"Speak!" said the German. "I won't hurt you!"
"Sahib, in pursuit unavailingly of chance emolument in neighborhood
of Chandni Chowk just recently--"
"How recently?" the German asked.
"Oh, my God! So recently that there are yet erections of cuticle all
down my back! Sahib, not more than twenty minutes have elapsed, and I
saw this with my own eyes!"
"Saw what--where?"
"Where? Have I not said where? My God, I am so upset as to be losing
sense of all proportion! Where? At German place of business--Sigelman
and Meyer--in small street leading out of Chandni Chowk. In search of
chance emolument, and finding none yet--finding none yet, sahib--sahib,
I am poor man, having wife and familee dependent and also many other
disabilitees, including wife's relatives.
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