her eyes. The room was dark and still. The only sound that could be heard was an occasional sigh of relief when my wife’s pain became less for a moment or two.’
‘It was at this time that Monorama came, and stood at the door. The light, coming from the opposite direction, fell on her face.
‘My wife started up, and, grasping my hand, asked: “O ké?”[1] In her feeble condition, she was so startled to see a stranger standing at the door that she asked two or three times in a hoarse whisper: “O ké? O ké? O ké?”
‘At first I answered weakly: “I do not know"; but the next moment I felt as though some one had whipped me, and I hastily corrected myself and said: “Why, it’s our doctor’s daughter.”
‘My wife turned and looked at me. I was not able to look her in the face. Then she turned to the new-comer, and said in a weak voice: “Come in,” and turning to me added: “Bring the lamp.”
‘Monorama came into the room, and began to talk a little to my wife. While she was talking the doctor came to see his patient.
‘He had brought with him from the dispensary
- ↑ ‘O ké?’ is the Bengali for ‘Who is that?’
