The Mystic Masseur

Epilogue. A Statesman on the 12.57

IN THE SUMMER of 1954 I was at an English university, waiting for the results of an examination. One morning I got a letter from the Colonial Office. A party of Colonial Statesmen were in Britain for a conference, and would I be willing to entertain a statesman from my own territorry? It was the vacation and I had much time on my hands. I agreed. It was arranged that I should be host for a day to G. R. Muir, Esq., M.B.E.

The day of the visit came and I was at the railway station to meet the 12.57 from London. As the passengers got off I looked among them for someone with a nigrescent face. It was easy to spot him, impeccably dressed, coming out of a first-class carriage. I gave a shout of joy.

‘Pundit Ganesh!’ I cried, running towards him. ‘Pundit Ganesh Ramsumair!’

‘G. Ramsay Muir,’ he said coldly.