proceed from a woman's throat—that tone can only issue out from a woman's lips when her heart flows out in tender passions at the sight of other's sufferings. Who knew such a voice would come up the throat of Kapalkundala at the last hour on the burning ground? "Not in fear—I tremble in rage because I can not weep” said Nabokumar.
"Why do you weep?"
The voice had the same tremolo in it.
"Why do I weep?—how would you know it, Mrinmoyee?" returned Nabokumar "Had you ever upon you the infatuation of the glamour of a charming beauty?"
As he spoke, his voice was stifled with agony.
"Did you ever come to the burning ground" went on he again "to pluck out your heart and fling it into fire?" So saying, he wept aloud and broke down at the feet of Kapalkundala.
"Mrinmoyee—Kapalkundala?—just save me. I roll at your feet—tell me once you are true to your love—tell me that and I will carry you home on my breast."
Kapalkundala raised Nabokumar by his hand and in a soft voice enquired "Why did you not ask me that before?"
The moment, these words were said, they stepped upon the brink of the precipice. Kapalkundala stood in the front with her back upon the river that flowed only one step behind. The tide had set in now and she stood on the top of a sand-mound and spoke "You never asked me that?"
