Hira did not answer, but made a comfortable seat for him on the bench, took a silver-mounted huka from a chest, prepared it for use and handed it to him.
Debendra drew a flask of brandy from his pocket, and drank some of it undiluted. Under the influence of this spirit he perceived that Hira's eyes were beautiful. In truth they were so—arge, dark, brilliant, and seductive. He said, "Your eyes are heavenly!" Hira smiled. Debendra saw in a corner a broken violin. Humming a tune, he took the violin and touched it with the bow. "Where did you get this instrument?" he asked.
"I bought it of a beggar."
Debendra made it perform a sort of accompaniment to his voice, as he sang some song in accordance with his mood.
Hira's eyes shone yet more brilliantly. For a few moments she forgot self, forgot Debendra's position and her own. She thought, "He is the husband, I am the wife; the Creator, making us for each other, designed long ago to bring us
