"Why? What above all things sends you on the thought of a wife?"
"The Bengalee always regards his wife as an unsurpassed beautiy."
"I am a true-born Bengalee. But you, too, speak the Bengali dialect. To what country else do you belong then?"
The damsel glanced at her own style of dress and said "As ill-luck would have it, this hapless self is not a Bengalee woman but an up-country Mussalmani."
Nabokumar eyed her up and down and saw the dress exactly suited the up-country fashion, though she was speaking the Bengali as much chastely as a born Bengalee.
After a short spell the young woman resumed "Sir, you have gathered all the information about me by parry of words. Now be pleased to let me know your own particulars. May I enquire the place where that incomparable beauty rules the house-hold?"
"Saptagrain is my native land" replied Nabokumar.
The foreigner added no answer. Suddenly she bent her head and plied her fingers brightening up the lamp-light.
Shortly after, without raising her head, she softly broke in "The servant's name is Moti. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"
"Nabokumar Sharma" said Nabokumar.
The light was blown out by a deep sigh and a hush fell in the room.
