the nose with the paper-cutter, please. That dog
is too fond of sugar. Do you take milk in yours?'

'No, thanks. Polly, I'm wearied of this life. It's hollow.'

'Turn religious, then. I always said that Rome would be your fate.'

'Only exchanging half-a-dozen attaches in red for one in black, and if I
fasted, the wrinkles would come, and never, never go. Has it ever struck
you, dear, that I'm getting old?'

'Thanks for your courtesy. I'll return it. Ye-es, we are both not
exactly how shall I put it?'

'What we have been. "I feel it in my bones," as Mrs. Crossley says.
Polly, I've wasted my life.'

'As how?'

'Never mind how. I feel it. I want to be a Power before I die.'

'Be a Power then. You've wits enough for anything and beauty!'

Mrs. Hauksbee pointed a teaspoon straight at her hostess. 'Polly, if you
heap compliments on me like this, I shall cease to believe that you're a
woman. Tell me how I am to be a Power.'

'Inform The Mussuck that he is the most fascinating and slimmest man in
Asia, and he'll tell you anything and everything you please.'

'Bother The Mussuck! I mean an intellectual Power not a gas-power.
Polly, I'm going to start a salon.'

Mrs. Mallowe turned lazily on the sofa and rested her head on her hand.
'Hear the words of the Preacher, the son of Baruch,' she said.

'Will you talk sensibly?'

'I will, dear, for I see that you are going to make a mistake.'

'I never made a mistake in my life at least, never one that I couldn't
explain away afterwards.'

'Going to make a mistake,' went on Mrs. Mallowe composedly. 'It is
impossible to start a salon in Simla. A bar would be much more to the
point.'

'Perhaps, but why? It seems so easy.'

'Just what makes it so difficult. How many clever women are there in
Simla?'

'Myself and yourself,' said Mrs. Hauksbee, without a moment's
hesitation.

'Modest woman! Mrs. Feardon would thank you for that. And how many
clever men?'

'Oh er hundreds,' said Mrs. Hauksbee vaguely.

'What a fatal blunder! Not one. They are all bespoke by the Government.
Take my husband, for instance. Jack was a clever man, though I say so
who shouldn't. Government has eaten him up. All his ideas and powers of
conversation he really used to be a good talker, even to his wife in the
old days are taken from him by this this kitchen-sink of a Government.
That's the case with every man up here who is at work. I don't suppose
a Russian convict under the knout is able