"No, no, Chunda Lal," she moaned. "You have been my only friend, and
I have tried to forget …"
"I will forswear Kali forever," he said fervently, "and shed no blood for all my life! I will live for you alone and be your slave."
"It is no good. I cannot, Chunda Lal, I cannot."
"Miska!" he pleaded tenderly.
"No, no," she repeated, her voice quivering—"I cannot … Oh! do not ask it; I cannot!"
She picked up the hideous wig, moving towards the door. Chunda Lal watched her, clenching his hands; and his eyes, which had been so tender, grew fierce.
"Ah!" he cried—"and it may be I know a reason!"
She stopped, glancing back at him.
"It may be," he continued, and his repressed violence was terrible, "it may be that I, whose heart is never sleeping, have seen and heard! One night"—he crept towards her—"one night when I cry the warning that the Doctor Sahib returns to his house, you do not come! He goes in at the house and you remain. But at last you come, and I see in your eyes——"
"Oh!" breathed Miska, watching him fearfully.