Considered baldly, they are modest. But in a low-scoring series, context is important. For batsmen, that means metrics other than runs made and averages raised. Warner has batted for four hours in the series, and faced 175 balls for 98 runs, with 12 boundaries and a strike rate of 56, both frugal for him. That suggests, correctly, that he has not overreached himself, as sometimes he does. It also suggests that for all his application, he has not caught a break yet, as others have. But a series is a saga, and this one is only half-over. There are pages to turn yet.

Everyone knew that batting would be difficult in India, and it has been difficult, and still there is damnation for batsmen who find themselves in difficulty. In 2001, Matthew Hayden found a way of playing there in one fell swoop, actually a sweep. But for most, including Warner, it takes time and practice to find something that works.

Warner's second-innings dismissal in Bengaluru is an example. It looked like a rustic heave. Actually, it was carefully thought out. He pushed his pad outside off stump, inoculating against lbw, then played the sweep, the all-purpose shot in India. He missed, but missing is an occupational hazard for batsmen in this series. Somehow, he was lbw anyway. The DRS decision was like an appeals court verdict, validating the process. The facts, as apprehended by the umpire, were a minimal consideration.

Should Warner have been playing the shot anyway? Australia's target was small, but the pitch by then was as skittish as Donald Trump at 3am. Patience and discretion were important to a point, but the runs would not make themselves. Waiting might only mean getting out then rather than now, for the same score. One big wrench might have won the game, and the likeliest man for that was Warner. If it did not work, there were others waiting, with other ways. None of them fared better than Warner.

Intuition says Warner will have a say in this series yet. At 30, he has come a long way, learning lessons en route. Defying doubters, he has parlayed a T20 trickster's schtick into a substantial Test career. Defying doubters, he has pulled his head in. In Bengaluru, as others' heads wobbled, his was conspicuously still and silent. Once, he spent his nights in India on infantile tweets. Now he spends them with his infant, infatuated. Unlike some forebears, he has matured on the job. As vice-captain, he has become positively vice-regal.

Like most of his team, Warner had a barely break-even 2016, making adequate runs, but without a hundred between the first week and last. His century before lunch against Pakistan in January, a historic rarity, re-established him as potentially the leviathan he would like to be. But India always was going to test him. R. Ashwin's off-spin, breaking across from him, always was going to be his personal Rubik's cube. One of the charms of this series has been to watch batsmen with automatic licences suddenly trying to drive manuals from Paris to Dakar.

In Pune, Warner got a low one from Umesh Yadav, then fell to Ashwin when trying to force the pace, in the circumstances a fair strategy. In Bengaluru, he was done by Ashwin twice, once comprehensively, the other in a photo finish. Always, a big score looked to be begging.

"Big" in this series is relative anyway. In two Tests, the average team score has been about 200, with only one individual century, Steve Smith's. Compare that with the preceding India-England series, which featured 16 centuries in five matches, three of them 200 or more. The way this series is shaping, and now that Ranchi's so-called pitch has been unveiled, 300 at 40 for any one batsman might be a chart-topping triumph. It is not out of Warner's long reach.