Sundari. Now, put on my Shari, take this little basket of Alta in your hand and go down from the boat, veiling your face—no one will be able to detect you. You are to go along the bank. You will find my husband waiting in a small boat. Don't feel any delicacy before him—get on the boat at once and take your seat there. He will set out, the very moment you will get on the boat and take you home.
Shaibalini meditated for a long time, and then said, "But, what will be your fate?"
Sundari. Don't be anxious for me. No such Englishman has yet come to Bengal as can cabin Sundari in a boat. I am a Brahmin's daughter and a Brahmin's wife; in this world we have no danger to dread, if we are pure and firm within ourselves. You go, anyhow I will come home by to-night. I believe in God, the saviour in distress. Don't delay any more—my husband has not yet taken his meals—God knows, whether he will have any to-day.
Shaibalini. Well, suppose I go home, would my husband take me back?
Sundari. Oh, nonsense! Why should he not? It is no joke.
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