"I am quite certain."
Madan Babu, mocking me, said—"Quite certain!"
Greatly astonished, and also very angry, I said—"Mahashoi, grimacing is not regarded as an act worthy of a gentleman." I rested my back against the window shutter, put my feet up on the bench, and sat gazing at the roof lamp.
Madan Babu said—"I am much obliged to you for the information. Was there any enmity between us? For twenty years I have not eaten an orange. Why did you make me do so?"
"Why, an orange is not a poisonous thing."
"It may not be poisonous to you, it is poisonous to me. Why did you make me eat it?"
Disgusted, I said—"Had you told me beforehand that you did not eat oranges?"
Again distorting his face, Madan Babu said—"Had I told you that beforehand! Why did you not tell me at the time what was in the marmalade?"
Burning with anger at the man's behaviour, I said—"You are exceeding the bounds of good manners."
"Go, go! I have seen plenty of Calcutta Babus of your sort; 'exceeding the bounds of good manners,' indeed. You have come to teach me good manners! Knowing the use of a knife and
