"We should have been blown up if the police had grown inquisitive,"
he said, with a shrug of his shoulders, returning to his seat.
After that they sat still for four hours more, and then put their
clothes on, not that they were dry yet, but the German had grown
tired of comparing Ranjoor Singh's better physique with his own. He
put his clothes on to hide inferiority, and Ranjoor Singh followed
suit for the sake of manners.
"What rank do you hold in your army at home?" asked Ranjoor Singh,
after an almost endless interval.
"If I told you that, my friend, you would be surprised."
"I think not," said Ranjoor Singh. "I think you are an officer who
was dismissed from the service."
"What makes you think so?"
"I am sure of it!"
"What makes you sure?"
"You are too well educated for a noncommissioned officer. If you had
not been dismissed from the service you would be on the fighting
strength, or else in the reserve and ready for the front in Europe.
And what army keeps spies of your type on its strength? Am I right?"
But then came Yasmini, carrying her food-basket as the rest had
done. She knocked at the outer trap-door, and the German ran to peep
through a hidden window at her. Then he went up a partly ruined stair
and looked all around the clearing through gaps in the debris
overhead that had been glazed for protection's sake.
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