On another day she would use quite the opposite method of attack, and, suddenly bursting into the room, would exclaim: ‘I give it up, you manage your own household.’
Baidyanath would mutter in despair: ‘What do you wish me to do?’
His wife would reply: ‘You do the marketing for this month,’ and then give him a list of materials sufficient for reckless orgies of feasting.
If Baidyanath could summon up courage to ask: ‘What is the necessity of so much?’ he would get the reply:
‘Indeed it will be cheaper for you to let the children die of starvation, and me also for that matter.’
One day after finishing his morning meal Baidyanath was sitting alone, preparing the thread for a kite, when he saw one of those wandering mendicants, who are reputed to know the secret of transmuting the baser metals into gold. In a moment there flashed to his mind the surest chance of unearned increment to his funds. He took the mendicant into his house, and was surprised at his own cleverness when he secured the consent of his guest to teach him the art of making gold.
