“What has happened?” Lalitha asked.
“It was my fault,” he answered. “I thought it was – wrong, but I was too – frightened to say so.”
There was an open door near to where they were standing and through it Lalitha could see an empty sitting room.
“Come in here,” she said gently and, taking the young man by the arm, his face still covered by his hands, she led him into the room.
“Tell me what has happened?” she asked.
He took his hands from his face and drawing a linen handkerchief from his pocket wiped his eyes.
“I am ashamed of myself, ma’am,” he said. “Please forget that you have seen me.”
“There is no reason for me to do that,” Lalitha answered. “I wish to help you, if I can.”
“But I have already said,” he replied in a choked voice, “no one can help.”
“What have you done?”
“His
