The Bow was aged twenty-five but she did not look a day older than Nimi. As she entered the house in her rags, it seemed to be lit up with her grace — as if many budding flowers which had been lying hidden under leaves suddenly burst out in bloom — as if a bottle of rose water which lay tight corked had been suddenly broken up — as if some body had thrown the incense into a smouldering fire which burst into flame and fragrance. On entering the house she looked about for her husband. She could not find him at once. Then she saw that, laying his head on the trunk of a small mango tree that stood in the yard, Jivananda stood weeping. She slowly walked up to him and held him by his hand. We do not say that her eyes did not grow wet — Heaven knows that the stream that rushed to her eyes could drown Jivananda if it were allowed to flow. But she restrained herself and with her husband's hand in hers, said, "Don't weep dear, I know you are weeping for me, but I am quite happy with my present life." Jivananda looked up, wiped his eyes, and asked his wife i " Dear, why are you in this tattered garb ? I did not certainly leave you in want." "Your wealth," said Santi, " I have kept for you. I do not know what to do with money. When you come back and take me back as your wife — "
