nised the handwriting. Her whole frame trembling as she opened the letter, she took it to her room and closed the door. Then, sitting alone, and staunching the fast-flowing tears, Bhramar read her letter. Again, once, twice, a hundred times she read it. That day Bhramar did not again open her door. When they called her to meals she said she had fever and could not eat. Bhramar had constant fever, so she was believed.
When, after a sleepless night, Bhramar left her bed the next day, she really had fever. But her heart was firm, decided. She had previously resolved what answer to write. A thousand times had she thought of such a contingency. It now required no thought, she had arranged the very phrases she would use.
She did not write "Your Servant,"[1] but as a husband is in all conditions to be revered, she wrote, "I send thousands of salutations, and beg to state as follows."
- ↑ This is the usual form of self-appellation, implying respectful deference to one's superiors. A son in writing to his mother would make use of the same phrase.
