my wife simply out of fear of this sweet, sharp laugh of hers. All the speeches which I made up when I was absent from her seemed to be very commonplace as soon as I found myself in her presence.
‘It is possible to talk when you are contradicted, but laughter cannot be met by argument; so I had simply to remain silent. The moonlight became brighter, and a cuckoo began to call over and over again till it seemed to be demented. As I sat still, 1 wondered how on such a night the cuckoo’s bride could remain indifferent.
‘After a great deal of treatment, my wife’s illness showed no signs of improvement. The doctor suggested a change of air, and I took her to Allahabad.’
At this point Dokhin Babu suddenly stopped, and sat silent. With a questioning look on his face he looked towards me, and then began to brood with his head resting in his hands. I too kept silence. The kerosene lamp flickered in the niche, and in the stillness of the night the buzzing of the mosquitoes could be heard distinctly. Suddenly breaking the silence, Dokhin Babu resumed his story:
‘Doctor Haran treated my wife, and after
