I rose at five, shaved, and dressed in the pants of the blue-striped pajama suit I had bought in London and in the home-spun white khadi blouse which Aryanaikam loaned me. It reached to my knees. Breakfast of mangoes, tea, and bread. Then I walked over to Gandhi’s hut. He was sitting on his bed outside and ladling spoonfuls of mango from a deep tumbler. His wife fanned him. He wore only a loincloth.
He greeted me with an “Oh” and commented on my costume. I said, “How do you like this combination of Piccadilly and khadi?”
He said it looked fine. “You must have had a special size made for you,” he added. I told him I had borrowed it from Aryanaikam. Gandhi said, “You know he studied at Columbia University in America.” I said I knew. After a pause, I asked him whether he had seen my questions. He said, “Yes, I will tackle them this morning.”
Soon after we started on the morning walk, I
