“Now, sahib,” the former said, “I think that we can tell you how the lady is. Rabda has seen her, spoken to her, and touched her; there is sympathy between them.”
He seated Rabda in a chair, placed his hand on her forehead, and then drew the tips of his fingers several times slowly down her face. Her eyes closed. He took up her hand, and let it fall again. It was limp and impassive. Then he said authoritatively, “Go to the prison.” He paused a moment.
“Are you there?”
“I am there,” she said.
“Are you in the room where the ladies are?”
“I am there,” she repeated.
“Do you see the lady Hannay?”
“I see her.”
“How is she?”
“She is lying quiet. The other young lady is sitting beside her. The lower part of her face is bandaged up, but I can see that she is not suffering as she was this morning. She looks quiet and happy.”