much to look at; but then that exactly was his vow. When the wedding was arranged he would invite his mess-mates to witness it. Aloud he said—"Well, you can go now."
Again the girl said—"what?"—displaying the end of her tongue.
"You can go."
The maid-servant took her away. Bhabatosh had finished his lunch. At this moment a girl of thirteen brought spices in a silver dish. She was a lovely child. She wore a white country sari bordered black. She had four anklets on her feet. On her wrists she wore bracelets of gold. Putting down the spices she went away. As she went with averted looks she let a little smile escape her lips.
Bhabatosh thought to himself—"There is a beautiful girl. If I were to marry her, how should I be safe? My life-long ideals would sink to the bottom of the sea." His mind was quite up-lifted with self-glorification over the fulfilment of his vow.
The youth took Bhabatosh to the outer apartments. The maid-servant, laughing a little, said—"The ladies of the house are asking if you approve of the bride."
"I do"—replied Bhabatosh with much dignity.
