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Tagore, Rabindranath, 1861-1941

"The Hungry Stones and Other Stories"

"Was I wrong, Kumo?"
I laughed a hollow laugh.
"Had not you better," said I, "consult some one more competent to
decide? The pickpocket never asks permission from the man whose pocket
he is going to pick."
"You are quite right," she replied blandly. "Abinash, my dear, let us
have our little conference in private. What do you say to that?"
After a few days my husband asked her, in my presence, if she knew of
any girl of a decent family who could come and help me in my household
work. He knew quite well that I needed no help. I kept silence.
"Oh! there are heaps of them," replied his aunt. "My cousin has a
daughter who is just of the marriageable age, and as nice a girl as you
could wish. Her people would be only too glad to secure you as a
husband."
Again there came from him that forced, hesitating laugh, and he said:
"But I never mentioned marriage."
"How could you expect," asked his aunt, "a girl of decent family to come
and live in your house without marriage? "
He had to admit that this was reasonable, and remained nervously silent.


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