‘Ask your mistress to come?’
‘Ask whom?’
‘Your mistress.’
‘Returned? From where?’
‘From Sitarampur.’
‘When did she go?’
‘Three days ago.’
For a moment Jotin felt numb all over, and his head began to swim. He slipped down from the pillows, on which he was reclining, and kicked off the woollen shawl that was over his feet.