THE WRECK
71
"there's fruit if you don't care for sweets — apples, pomegranates, custard-apples."
But Kamala merely shook her head.
Ramesh again gazed at the girl's face. She was looking at the pictures in her English Reader, with her head slightly bent forward. A beautiful face is like a diviner's rod; it draws out any beauty that lurks in its surroundings. The mellow sunlight seemed in that instant to become a sentient being ; the autumn day appeared to take form and shape. As the sun rules its planets, so this girl drew sky, air, light, and everything about her into her orbit, while she herself sat unconscious and silent, looking at pictures in a lesson-book.
Ramesh hurried out and fetched a plateful of apples, pears, and pomegranates.
"You don't seem to want anything, Kamala," he said, "but I'm hungry and I can't hold out any longer." Kamala smiled, and the light of that unexpected smile dissipated the fog that had come between them. Ra- mesh took a knife and began to slice an apple, but he was quite devoid of any kind of dexterity. His avid haste and his clumsy attempts to cut the fruit were too much for Kamala, and she burst out laughing.
Her unrestrained merriment delighted Ramesh. "I suppose you're laughing because I'm no good at cut- ting apples," he said. "All right, just show me how you can do it."
"I could if I had a chopper," said Kamala. "I can't do it with a knife."
"I suppose you think we haven't got a chopper here," said Ramesh, and calling a servant asked if there was one. "Oh, yes, sir, we brought along everything that was needed for the kitchen last night," was the answer. "Clean it thoroughly and bring it in," com- manded Ramesh.
When the chopper arrived Kamala took off her
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