"All right," briefly replied Mahendra.
"No," said Binodini with even greater brevity.
Asha had again recourse to a stratagem, and this time it was apparent to Binodini from the very first.
The plan was for Asha to lure Binodini into her room at noon and lull her to sleep; whereupon Mahendra was to seize the opportunity to take a shot with his camera and thus vanquish her recalcitrant friend.
The surprising part of it was that Binodini, who never slept in the day-time, felt so drowsy that noon in Asha's room that she could scarcely keep her eyes open. At length with a red shawl negligently drawn over her spotless white sari,[1] she fell asleep so charmingly, with her face towards the open window, that Mahendra said it was as good as if she was posing for the picture.
Mahendra brought up his camera on tiptoe. To get the proper point of view he had to make prolonged surveys of Binodini's figure from different positions. In fact his regard for his art constrained him to diffidently step up to her head and arrange her scattered hair a little; and then, the first arrangement not being to his taste, he had to do it over again!
"Will you shift that corner of the shawl at her feet a little to the left," whispered he to Asha.
Awkward little Asha whispered back, "I'll spoil it, and perhaps wake her. Do it yourself."
Mahendra did the shifting.
At last when he had got the plate into the camera, the noise or something caused Binodini to heave a deep sigh and then sit up with a start. Asha burst out laughing. Binodini was highly indignant. "This is very wrong," she said, her glance flashing fiery darts at Mahendra.
"Very wrong, no doubt," repeated Mahendra, "but the crime has been committed, and if I'm deprived of its fruits it'll be like losing both this world and the next. Let me complete the deed, and then award me such punishment as it may please you."
Asha added her entreaties. The photograph was taken, but the first one was unsuccessful. So the artist insisted on taking another the next day. after that Binodini could not say no to a group with Asha which would serve as a memento of their eternal affection. "But this must positively be the last," she said. Whereupon Mahendra saw to it that this one also was a failure.
Thus with repeated sittings did their friendship progress fast and far.
XV
The ash-smothered fire flames up again when it is stirred. The advent of a third person revived the waning passion of the newly wedded couple.
Asha had no gift of witty repartee,—Binodini's store was inexhaustible; so Asha felt it a great relief to be under her wing. She had no longer to strain herself in the increasingly difficult task of keeping up Mahendra's spirits.
Mahendra and Asha had from the very first pitched their love too high. How were they afterwards to attune it to the key of everyday life? How was Asha to supply anew the intoxication which Mahendra in the hour of re-action seemed to be moping for? It was as if at this juncture Binodini had placed in her hands a brimming, sparkling, crystal goblet. And Asha, seeing her husband cheering up, felt greatly comforted.
Asha was no longer worried with the sense of effort. When Mahendra and Binodini engaged in a contest of wit and badinage, she could wholeheartedly join in their laughter. When in playing cards Mahendra would try to evade some rule, Asha would appeal to Binodini; or if he made cutting remarks, she would look to Binodini to meet him with a suitably crushing reply. Thus, between them, the trio kept things going merrily.
But Binodini did not neglect her work. Superintending the cooking, directing the household work, attending to Rajlakshmi's comforts, all these duties she would get through with, before joining in the merry-making.
Mahendra would sometimes get impatient and say, "You'll spoil the servants by not allowing them to do their own work."
"That's better than spoiling myself by not doing any work at all," Binodini would reply. "Hadn't you better be going off to college yourself!"
Mahendra—"It's such a lovely cloudy day—"
Binodini—"Nonsense, your carriage is at the door, you really must go."
- ↑ A plain white borderless Sari is the only garment of the Hindu widow in Bengal.
