appetite. Now I am quite sure that every day she saw through my excuse. I was the fool, and I actually thought that she was unconscious of this deception.’
Here Dokhin Babu paused and, burying his head in his hands, remained silent for a time. At last he said: ‘Give me a glass of water,’ and having drunk the water he continued:
‘One day the doctor’s daughter Monorama expressed a desire to see my wife. I don’t quite know why, but this proposal did not altogether please me. But I could find no excuse for refusing her request. So she arrived one evening at our house.
‘On that day my wife’s pain had been rather more severe than usual. When her pain was worse she would lie quite still and silent, occasionally clenching her fists. It was only from that one was able to guess what agony she was enduring. There was no sound in the room, and I was sitting silently at the bedside. She had not requested me to go out for my usual walk. Either she had not the power to speak, or she got some relief from having me by her side when she was suffering very much. The kerosene lamp had been placed near the door lest it should hurt
