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Yet it becomes the arm, does it not? Look, at your pleasure, at the rest of the box." He pushed the case toward her and Lena began to finger its profuse contents with occasional sighs of envious delight and glances at her white flesh enhanced by its ornaments. Ram Juna sat in silence. "How do you dare to carry such things around with you?" she asked. "Not much longer," he answered with a shrug.

"Everything fades, the rose, the lady, even thought, which is after all but a grub on the tree of truth. All, all fade." "I wish you wouldn't talk that way," objected Lena. "You make me feel quite creepy." "Ah," said Ram Juna, "you love the things of to-day. To me the thought that all is transitory is bliss. Is it not so?"

A present from such a creature, who hardly comes into the category of ordinary men, would create no such remark as might a gift from me. Do you not see? We will let the truth remain a little secret between us two. I have an idea that we shall not be likely to see Ram Juna again.

I have floated in with the flood and out with the ebb of almost every fad from crystal-gazing to bridge. I always hope that one of them is going to be worth while." "But you can't call the Swami's philosophy 'a fad'," objected Norris. "No, perhaps that wasn't fair. Ram Juna is really very celestial in a ponderous kind of way, isn't he?

"Would you rather that we should not see it?" asked Mr. Lenox. "I'm afraid every one will see it," said Madeline shamefacedly, as she held out the guilty pages. The three men leaned their heads over the table with a curiosity that would have done credit to women, while Ram Juna still looked on. "I have already beheld the writing," he said suavely. "Mr. Early gave way to unwonted anger when he saw.

Mr. Early could not help thinking that a guest who spent most of his time alone in an empty room would prove no great tax upon his entertainer. "I thank you," said Ram Juna, rising and making a salaam of curious dignity and courtesy. "You bid me lecture. You bid me write and instruct in the sacred truths.

Almost at her own door she met Ram Juna, who turned with her to make one of his ponderous calls, while she sat and talked with him of emptiness and philosophy, with that vivacious patience that becomes a habit with women of the world; but when the door opened and her husband appeared, accompanied by Dick Percival and Ellery Norris she heaved a distinct sigh of relief.

But now Swami Ram Juna has renounced the pomps and indulgences of courts and become, as I said, an humble seeker. He, too, loves the ruby not from any vulgar love of display but because to his soul it is a mystic symbol of Adhidaiva the life-giving energy, refulgent as the sun behind dark clouds. Isn't that a pointer for those of us who want diamonds and things? I believe I'll ask Mr.

She's a merlatter herself; keeps a place 'bout six houses down, first street to the left." The man stared impudently as he spoke, but Ram Juna said, "Thank you," with his usual politeness as he went out. The Hindu noted the impudent stare, but he went away with an indifferent air.

The polished face was set off by a turban of snowy white, in whose center blazed, like a bloodshot eye, a single enormous ruby. Everything about Ram Juna was superlative his size, his raiment, his rapt gaze, his doctrine.