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To-morrow I should float on the water; all would hear of it. Nagendra again I say it, Nagendra; if Nagendra heard of it what would he say? It will not do to drown myself; my body would swell, I should look ugly if he should see me! Can I take poison? What poison? Where should I get it? Who would bring it for me? Could I take it? I could, but not to-day.

Since it had been abandoned by Surja Mukhi and Nagendra, Hira had taken possession of this summer-house. It was evening, an almost full moon shone in the heavens. Her rays shining through the branches of the trees fell on the white marble, and danced upon the wind-moved waters of the talao close by. The air was filled with the intoxicating perfume of the scented shrubs.

During that interim I met a number of sages-the "Perfume Saint," the "Tiger Swami," Nagendra Nath Bhaduri, Master Mahasaya, and the famous Bengali scientist, Jagadis Chandra Bose. My encounter with the "Perfume Saint" had two preambles, one harmonious and the other humorous. "God is simple. Everything else is complex. Do not seek absolute values in the relative world of nature."

The sale was declared null and void, and Nagendra regained his own to the intense disgust of the rascally Priya. Rámdá. Nagendra Babu was now the wealthiest man in Ratnapur. Puffed up by worldly success, he began to treat his neighbours arrogantly and, with one exception, they did not dare to pay him back in his own coin. Rámdás Ghosal, known far and wide as Rámdá, flattered or feared no one.

In less than six months the borrower died and, after waiting as long, Nagendra pressed his sister-in-law for payment of the debt. She referred him to her brother, Priyanath Guha, who, she said, was manager of what property she had left. This man was a scoundrel of the deepest dye, and Samarendra, who was fully aware of the fact, never allowed him inside the house.

Saying "Very well, I go," her eyes streaming with tears, she presented herself before the Babu in the outer apartments. The Babu was alone in the boita khana he was usually alone now. Seeing Hira weeping, he asked, "Why do you weep, Hira?" "I have been told to come for my wages." Nagendra, astonished, asked: "What has happened?" "I am dismissed. "What have you done?" asked Nagendra.

Amid the sounds might be distinguished the fall of the rain-drops on the leaves of the trees, and that of the leaves into the pools beneath; the noise of jackals' feet on the wet paths, occasionally that of the birds on the trees shaking the water from their drenched feathers, and now and then the moaning of the almost subdued wind. Presently Nagendra saw a light in the distance.

Then she cast herself down, hid her face, and wept. As the murderous tiger gazes at the dying agonies of his prey, Nagendra stood calmly looking on. He was thinking, "She will die to-day or to-morrow, as God may will. What can I do? If I willed it, could I die instead of her? I might die; but would that save Surja Mukhi?"

I do not desire heaven as the reward of my devotion; this only I desire, that I may see my husband ere I die." But the letter did not reach Nagendra. He had left Govindpur long before it arrived there. The messenger gave the letter to the Dewan, and went away. Nagendra had said to the Dewan, "When I stay at any place I shall write thence to you.

Nagendra was accustomed to rise early; it was possible Kunda might obtain a glimpse of him, after which she meant to return to Hira's dwelling. But when she arrived at the house she saw nothing of Nagendra, neither in the path, nor on the roof, nor at the window. Kunda thought, "He has not risen yet, it is not time; I will sit down."