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Crossing rough paddy fields, I trudged over sickled stumps of the prickly plant and mounds of dried clay. At midafternoon my world was still an endless paddy field. Heat pouring from the avoidless sky was bringing me to near-collapse. As a man approached at leisurely pace, I hardly dared utter my usual question, lest it summon the monotonous: "Just a KROSHA." The stranger halted beside me.
Gungadhura glanced about him like a frenzied man, and then lay back in a state of near-collapse. Samson and De Wing both bowed, and left the room. "Poor devil!" said De Wing, "I'm sorry for him." "Would you be a good fellow," said Samson, "and send off this wire for me? There I've added the exact time of the abdication.
Divine Attention was elsewhere, however; the plodding clock covered the hours. Darkness was descending as our leader entered the door. My greeting was one of unfeigned joy. "Dyanandaji will bathe and meditate before we can serve food." Jitendra approached me again as a bird of ill omen. I was in near-collapse. My young stomach, new to deprivation, protested with gnawing vigor.
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