I sat on the stool in the far corner of the
veranda looking down the lane, with a heart beating faster and faster.
Every minute I kept my eye on the rain, and when it began to grow less I
prayed with all my might; "Please, God, send some more rain till half-
past seven is over." For I was quite ready to believe that there was no
other need for rain except to protect one helpless boy one evening in
one corner of Calcutta from the deadly clutches of his tutor.
If not in answer to my prayer, at any rate according to some grosser law
of physical nature, the rain did not give up.
But, alas ! nor did my teacher.
Exactly to the minute, in the bend of the lane, I saw his approaching
umbrella. The great bubble of hope burst in my breast, and my heart
collapsed. Truly, if there is a punishment to fit the crime after
death, then my tutor will be born again as me, and I shall be born as my
tutor.
As soon as I saw his umbrella I ran as hard as I could to my mother's
room. My mother and my grandmother were sitting opposite one another
playing cards by the light of a lamp.
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