Pantulu made no comment on this confirmation of his son's story, and Ananda began again.
"It happened in this way——"
"Silence!" thundered his father, in a voice that made them all start. "When the dhoby's donkey falls into the tank, does it bring him to life again to explain what caused his foot to slip? Thou art cursed! cursed! cursed! No longer shalt thou be a son of mine! I am childless! Go from my sight, and never let my eyes fall upon thee again!"
He used the language usually addressed to inferiors, and it stung.
"Let me explain, most excellent father——"
"Call me not father, son of a dog!"
"If you would only let me speak, I can——"
"Sooner would I listen to the 'untouchable' who cleans the gutters and carries away the contents of the dustbin! Go!"
He moved towards him threateningly. Ananda stepped back a pace or two, but did not show any sign of leaving the room.
"It is not fair to judge any one unheard," he began again; but he was not allowed to finish the sentence. Pantulu, beside himself with rage, advanced with uplifted hand and brought his fist down upon his son's face. The diamond caught his lip and tore it open. Blood flowed and dropped upon the white shirt-front, leaving a large red stain.