“I feel as if I wanted food,” I said. “I have a lot to tell you, but I must eat first. I’ve had no dinner.”
Sandy sat opposite me while I fed, and forbore to ask questions.
“What put you in such a bad humour last night?” I asked.
He looked very solemn. “Lord knows. No, that’s not true, I know well enough. I didn’t take to Medina.”
“Now I wonder why?”
“I wonder too. But I’m just like a dog: I take a dislike to certain people at first sight, and the queer thing is that my instinct isn’t often wrong.”
“Well, you’re pretty well alone in your opinion. What sets you against him? He is well-mannered, modest, a good sportsman, and you can see he’s as clever as they make.”
“Maybe. But I’ve got a notion that the man is one vast lie. However, let’s put it that I reserve my opinion. I have vari
