By Jove , it is near morning now . ' He yawned ponderously , and with never a civil word lumbered off to his sleeping-place . But Kim slept little , and his thoughts ran in Hindustani : ` Well is the Game called great ! I was four days a scullion at Quetta , waiting on the wife of the man whose book I stole . And that was part of the Great Game ! From the South -- God knows how far -- came up the Mahratta , playing the Great Game in fear of his life . Now I shall go far and far into the North playing the Great Game . Truly , it runs like a shuttle throughout all Hind . And my share and my joy ' -- he smiled to the darkness -- ' I owe to the lama here . Also to Mahbub Ali -- also to Creighton Sahib , but chiefly to the Holy One . He is right -- a great and a wonderful world -- and I am Kim -- Kim -- Kim -- alone -- one person -- in the middle of it all . But I will see these strangers with their levels and chains ... ' ` What was the upshot of last night 's babble ? ' said the lama , after his orisons . ` There came a strolling seller of drugs -- a hanger-on of the Sahiba 's . Him I abolished by arguments and prayers , proving that our charms are worthier than his coloured waters . ' ` Alas , my charms ! Is the virtuous woman still bent upon a new one ? ' ` Very strictly . ' ` Then it must be written , or she will deafen me with her clamour . ' He fumbled at his pencase .
` In the Plains , ' said XXXXX , ` are always too many people .
Hindustani Kim Mahratta babble clamour drugs lama night orisons pencase