‘Lin, it has been almost two years since you have seen Karla.’ ‘I know.’ ‘But . . . in matters of the heart, of love –’ ‘I know.’ ‘– those two years are simply two heartbeats.’ ‘I –’ ‘No, please! Let me say it. Lin . . . you are . . . you are in a darker place than you were two years ago. You are a darker man that you were when you first arrived in Bombay. I have never said this to you. I am ashamed to say that a part of me was glad to see it, at first. It was comforting. I was glad of the company, you might say.’ He was almost whispering, and speaking in a fluid rush of syllables so swift
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