pulling the rope of the fan. There was only one decoration in the room, a glass-covered, black-and white print of Jesus Christ, on which were printed the words, “He is our peace.” Gandhi sat on the pallet which is his bed. There was a board behind his back and a pillow between the board and his back. He was wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and writing a letter with a fountain pen. His legs were crossed scissors-fashion. He held a small board on one knee, and on the board was the pad on which he wrote. Three other fountain pens stood in holes in a hand-made wooden stand. Left of his bed were some books piled neatly on the floor. He said to me, “Come sit down in the coolest place here beside the woman working the fan.” I sat down in a corner and leaned my back against the matting. Gandhi said, “If you do not mind, these people will remain here. They will not speak. If you object, they can go.” Dev was there and Desai, and several other members of the ashram, including Kurshed. I did not very much like the idea of an interview in company, but I said, “No,” and got settled.
“Now I am fully at your disposal,” Gandhi announced.
I said, “I feel that the Cripps mission was a turning point in Indian history. The country is probably now beginning to grasp the significance of Cripps’s failure, and from that understanding big
