She dismissed him as the household was waiting for dinner. The men—who were served first—could not begin to eat until the representative of the family had offered the daily oblation to the deity and said grace.
When the meal was over Gunga summoned Sooba giving him no time for the after-dinner nap claimed by the more important members of the family.
"Let him bring the jewels," she said to his wife. "Come yourself and listen to what I have to say. It concerns you both."
Sooba had an unhappy half-hour with his sister-in-law. He found himself called upon to account not only for the jewels and every rupee paid in but also for every anna paid out, the amount of rice taken from the granaries, the curry stuffs that had been used, the produce of the dairy and garden.
The wardrobes and clothes' chests were emptied, the contents displayed and missing sarees accounted for. The contents of the strong box containing the family jewels was examined, even to the numbering of the loose gems and pearls that formed part of the wealth belonging to Pantulu.
It was hard to be made to disgorge when he had looked upon the coveted treasure as his already; but Sooba and his wife had no alternative. Dorama's jewels were handed over down to the smallest silver toe-ring. Gunga examined them critically, separating several of the choicest and most valuable from the rest. They were not put back in the strong box, but were placed in another and more portable jewel case. This she locked, and slipped the key on her own bunch which was tied to her betel-bag.
"Are you taking the jewels away with you?" asked Sooba.
"They are required at the silk farm," she replied shortly.
"For yourself or for the manager's wife?"
"Neither; they are to be worn at a wedding I am arranging. They will adorn the bride."