88
WINTER INDIA
turban awry and eyes flashing. Although this football rush was going on in the pantry and dining-room, the swiftly moving, barefooted contestants made no sound on the marble floor, and only a suppressed hissing indicated the death-scuffle behind the screen. Each bearer put down the hard-won plate before his master, pulled a fresh knife and fork from his belt, gave them a rub on his voluminous garments, and fell into statuesque pose again behind the chair.
