the deities, and her power of touch could only feel the pleasure of his fond and loving caresses. All her hopes were now concentrated in one particular thing, which was nothing but an earnest desire to behold her husband once again. Like the bee, which even under the smart pricks of thorns, takes delight to wing its favourite course round flowers of rare fragrance and beauty, sweetly smiling from within their thorny environments, Shaibalini's mind, inspired by the memory of her lord, began to wander about his face, which wore a manly beauty, with its well-matched pair of moustaches and broad forehead.
The man, who prescribed this form of penance, had undoubtedly deep insight into all the complex workings of the human mind.
In a dark and lonely place, where no human face can be seen, and at a time when the thoughts of this world and its gross affairs are conspicuous by their absence, the mind becomes deeply absorbed in any matter upon which it is fixed. In the midst of those dismal associations, Shaibalini, with a weak mind and a weak body, got beside herself in the deep and uninterrupted meditation of her husband.
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