Afterwards Jeremy told me triumphantly that he thought they had made the doctor aware of their virtue as far as Sri Lanka was concerned, by pointing out to him that Jane took the pill out of habit but could easily stop now since it was not really necessary. This did not strike me as especially helpful, since one could hardly expect the doctor to be impressed by such fine discriminations, and he had in any case prescribed a remedy that took no account of this kindly suggestion. But it showed a certain willingness to please on Jeremy’s part that I appreciated.
He was rather a dear, I thought, as I poured myself a final drink that night at Tissawewa; he could not really be found fault with for being so anxious tonight to make use of the only opportunity they might have in this country. He had been quite diffident in asking me, as we stood before the Jetavanaramaya that evening, watching the sun sink behind its ruined grandeur. Jane had been determined to make the circuit of the mound, and she could just be seen in the distance, a white blur against the vegetation. The light was fading fast, and the twilight noises of the forest had begun to resound around us. I felt very mellow, and very content.