[The Broken Road by A. E. W. Mason]@TWC D-Link book
The Broken Road

CHAPTER VII
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And those ten years had had their due effect.

He betrayed his race nowadays by little more than his colour, a certain high-pitched intonation of his voice and an extraordinary skill in the game of polo.

There had been a time of revolt against discipline, of inability to understand the points of view of his masters and their companions, and of difficulty to discover much sense in their institutions.
It is to be remembered that he came from the hill-country, not from the plains of India.

That honour was a principle, not a matter of circumstance, and that treachery was in itself disgraceful, whether it was profitable or not--here were hard sayings for a native of Chiltistan.
He could look back upon the day when he had thought a public-house with a great gilt sign or the picture of an animal over the door a temple for some particular sect of worshippers.
"And, indeed, you are far from wrong," his tutor had replied to him.

"But since we do not worship at that fiery shrine such holy places are forbidden us." Gradually, however, his own character was overlaid; he was quick to learn, and in games quick to excel.


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