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school chum and the penetrating but expressionless stare of Mr Mohamed he could not control his tongue and he went on, justifying, apologising, excusing.
    When at last he fell silent – a local silence amid the mindless hubbub and clatter of the café – Mr Mohamed lowered his gaze and began to turn round and round a thick gold ring on the second finger of his left hand. He had altogether six gold rings on one hand and five on the other, most of them set with stones or seals. He also had a gold bracelet, a gold wristwatch and a gold tiepin.
    He said in a guttural undertone: ‘You have been playing poker again.’
    Nari swallowed something thick in his throat. In the last month he had only been to the Hotel Welcome three times and he could not understand how this stranger could possibly know. Who had told him? Shyam did not know. Could Bonni have spoken to someone? Or was it just a bluff?
    â€˜Twice,’ he admitted. ‘But once I went to take tea with my friends there, and the other time I lost nothing of consequence. I sat down at the table for barely half an hour, just to be friendly, with my friends, you understand.’
    â€˜Then why have you no money?’
    â€˜I have tried to explain, sir. And I am only a clerk. My monthly salary is –’
    â€˜I know what your monthly salary is. The whole of it for four weeks –’
    â€˜I have to live, sir, and maintain a sick wife.’
    â€˜You should have thought of that before you borrowed money to pay your gambling debts.’
    The three men stared at each other.
    Shyam said loudly: ‘Look here, Nari, we must have this out, see? Two months now you have owed me this money. Mr Mohamed has lost patience. You must pay up or suffer the consequences.’
    Nari had about 150 rupees in a secret pocket inside his shirt to protect it from pickpockets. He dug this out and laid it on the table.
    â€˜This is all I have now. This is all I have in the world! We are in rented rooms and there is nothing I can sell. On Friday week I shall have my pay, but on that I have to live for all the next month – to keep a wife, to pay the rent, to eat enough to stay alive …’
    His voice trailed off as he saw neither of the men was interested.
    Mr Mohamed made a contemptuous gesture towards the money. ‘Put that away. It is of no consequence, that trifling sum. I too have my masters, and it will be necessary to pay them the whole sum this week and no more delay.’
    Nari looked from one to the other. ‘What can I do?’
    â€˜You should have thought of that before.’
    â€˜You cannot send me to prison! It was a friendly loan from a schoolfriend! I signed no paper! I could be convicted of nothing!’ Gaining confidence, he gathered up the notes and thrust them back into his shirt pocket. ‘I am sorry, sir. I did not know you had lent this money, and I will certainly repay it next month.’
    Mr Haji Noor Mohamed waved away the flies that had settled on the table where Nari in his agitation had spilled a drop of tea.
    â€˜Not to prison,’ he said. ‘ Oh, not to prison. We could not do that …’
    â€˜Well, then,’ said Nari, feeling better. ‘But I promise next month –’
    â€˜We will send two men,’ said Mr Mohamed. ‘ They will break your legs.’
    The noise outside was now deafening. A traffic jam had built up and all the horns were blaring, men cursing, bicycle bells ringing. A policeman was thrusting his way through the crowd to see what was amiss.
    What was not amiss was Nari’s hearing. Although Mr Mohamed spoke low the young man could not fail to hear the words spoken. At first his mind would not credit them. Then he broke out in a sweat which even in that heated atmosphere seemed cold.
    He turned his eyes affrightedly to his friend Shyam Lal Shastri, but Shyam had a finger inside his mouth picking one of his back teeth. His expression was sullen and