Brahm. "How can I help that? I can't refuse the Kartâ."
Hara. "You are not to blame. Do you feel disposed to earn something?"
Brahm. "In the way of a beating, do you mean? Then why don't you strike me?"
Hara. "Not that. A thousand rupees."
Brahm. "By your marrying a widow, I suppose." [That is, marrying for money.]
Hara. "Just so."
Brahm. "You are too old for that."
Hara. "Well, I have other matters to speak of. Let us begin. Take something in advance."
Thus saying, Hara Lâl put a note for five hundred rupees into Brahmânanda's hand.
Brahmânanda turned the note over and over. "What am I to do with this?"
Hara. "Invest it. Give ten rupees of it to Moti, the milkwoman."
Brahm. "I have nothing to do with milkwomen. Tell me what you want me to do."
Hara. "Prepare two pens. Let them be exactly alike."
Brahm. "Very good. I'm listening." As he spoke, Ghosh Mahâshay took two
