thrown into the bottomless abyss of trade. She gasped: “What, then, is to be done?”
‘Modhu said: “Why not take your jewels and go to your father’s house?” In his heart of hearts he entertained the hope that a portion, and possibly the larger portion, of that jewelry would fall to his lot.
‘Mani at once agreed. It was a rainy night towards the end of summer. At this very ghât a boat was moored. Mani, wrapped from head to foot in a thick shawl, stepped into the boat. The frogs croaked in the thick darkness of the cloudy dawn. Modhu, waking up from sleep, roused himself from the boat, and said: “Give me the box of jewels.”
‘Mani replied: “Not now, afterwards. Now let us start.”
‘The boat started, and floated swiftly down the current. Mani had spent the whole night in covering every part of her body with her ornaments. She was afraid that if she put her jewels into a box they might be snatched away from her hands. But if she wore them on her person, then no one could take them away without murdering her. Mani did not understand Bhusan, it is true; but there was no doubt about her understanding of Modhu.
