summer breezes blew upon Vihari's body like its breathing. Then the brightness seemed to die out of those eager eyes and their dry thirsting gaze clouded over with tears and brimmed with unutterable emotion; and then that figure once again fell at his feet clasping them to its bosom; and then a fairy creeper suddenly sprang up before him and winding its tendrils round his neck held out to him a pair of fragrant flowering lips. Vihari closed his eyes as he wrestled with himself to dismiss that face from his memory, but his hands seemed to refuse to lend themselves to any cruel thrust; and that profferred unaccomplished kiss hovered poignantly near him—thrilling him all over.
Vihari could remain no longer all alone in the dark. He went into the lighted room to seek some diversion for his thoughts. In a corner of the room, on a small table, was a framed photograph enclosed in a silk cover. Vihari took the frame out of the cover and brought the photograph into the middle of the room under the hanging lamp, and sat down there, looking at it.
It was a portrait of Mahendra and Asha taken shortly after their wedding. On the back was written "Dada" in Mahendra's hand, and "Asha" in her own. The sweetness of their newly wedded life had remained fixed in the picture. Mahendra was seated in a chair—the love-light in his eyes. Beside him stood Asha, whom the photographer had not allowed her veil, but whose modest bashfulness he had been unable to do away with. Mahendra was now far away from the weeping Asha, but the silly picture had perpetuated the irony of fate by refusing to wipe away any of the love-lines from Mahendra's face.
With the photograph on his knees Vihari hoped to be able to drive out Binodini's image from his mind with contumely. But Binodini's embrace, soft with her youth, agonised with her love, still clung about his feet.
"O wanton destroyer of a happy home!" his judgment wanted to say. But Binodini's uplifted lips, pleading for a kiss, seemed to reply "I love you. Out of all the world have I consecrated you mine."
But was this a sufficient reply? would it serve to drown the anguished cries of a devastated household? O heartless witch!
Was Vihari wholly angry, or was there a trace of longing in his tone? Could his heart really reject this offering of love at a moment when it had just been left destitute, divested of all the claims of a lifelong affection? When had he even been offered anything like this! He had all his life been gleaning on the outskirts of the field of love. Now that Love itself in lavish plenitude, had served a feast on plate of gold for himself alone, what nice scruples had made this unfortunate reject it!
While immersed in these thoughts, photograph in hand, Vihari came to himself with a start to find Mahendra before him.
Mahendra came to the point at once with the exclamation, "Where’s Binodini?"
As Vihari started up, the photograph slipped unnoticed to the ground. He went up to Mahendra and taking him by the hand said gently, "Sit down a while, Dada, there's a good fellow, and let's talk the whole thing over."
"I have no time to sit or talk," said Mahendra. "Tell me, will you, where's Binodini."
"I can't reply in one word to the question you're asking," replied Vihari. "You must have a little patience."
Mahendra.—"Going to lecture me, are you? That sort of thing I've been hearing since infancy."
Vihari.—"No, I've neither the right nor the ability to read you a lecture."
Mahendra.—"You want to revile me then? Well, I know I'm a brute and a scoundrel, and all the rest of the names you may want to call me. But the point is, do you or do you not know where Binodini is?"
Vihari.—"I do."
Mahendra.—"Will you tell me or will you not?"
Vihari.—"No."
Mahendra.—"You must! You have stolen her and hidden her away somewhere. She is mine, you must give her back to me."
Vihari was silent for a while and then said firmly: "No, she is not yours, nor have I stolen her. She came to me of herself."
"That's a lie," shouted Mahendra, and he began to thump on the door leading into the next room, calling out as he did so: "Binod, Binod."
Hearing the sound of crying inside he exclaimed "Fear not, Binod. 'Tis I, Mahendra, come to your rescue. No one shall shut you up here."
