"Mrs. Moore, I am afraid I startled you. I shall tell my community—our friends—about you. That God is here—very good, very fine indeed. I think you are newly arrived in India."
"Yes—how did you know?"
"By the way you address me. No, but can I call you a carriage?"
"I have only come from the club. They are doing a play that I have seen in London, and it was so hot."
"What was the name of the play?"
"Cousin Kate."
"I think you ought not to walk at night alone, Mrs. Moore. There are bad characters about and leopards may come across from the Marabar Hills. Snakes also."
She exclaimed; she had forgotten the snakes.
"For example, a six-spot beetle," he continued. "You pick it up, it bites, you die."
"But you walk about yourself."
"Oh, I am used to it."
"Used to snakes?"
They both laughed. "I'm a doctor," he said." Snakes don't dare bite me." They sat down side by side in the entrance, and slipped on their evening shoes." Please may I ask you a question now? Why do you come to India at this time of year, just as the cold weather is ending?"
"I intended to start earlier, but there was an unavoidable delay."
"It will soon be so unhealthy for you! And why ever do you come to Chandrapore?"
"To visit my son. He is the City Magistrate here."
"Oh no, excuse me, that is quite impossible. Our City Magistrate's name is Mr. Heaslop. I know him intimately."
"He's my son all the same," she said, smiling.
"But, Mrs. Moore, how can he be?"
"I was married twice."
