“What says the Bhat to that?” she asked suddenly, glancing at Ommony, and Samding came out of his immobility to give one swift searching glance sidewise.
Privilege has its disadvantages. It is one of the obligations of a Bhat that when appealed to he must say something; and the quicker he says it, the better for his reputation.
“I am not your priest. You would like to quote me against him, but I am only interested in learning why I was brought here,” Ommony answered.
Vasantasena sneered. “Just like a Bhat! You think of nothing but your own convenience. Well, I am glad there is none of your money in my birthday bowl. Rather I will give you some of it. Here—help yourself.”
“It is unclean money,” said Ommony, falling back on the caste-rules that a Bhat may observe if he chooses, even if the other Brahmans refuse him recognition.
“Is that true?” she asked the Lama. “This is not all. I am rich. I have lakhs and lakhs.”
“It is yours,” the Lama answered. “It is your responsibility.”
“Well,” she said, “as I told you before, if you will take it all, you may have it. I am about to become Sanyasin[[24]]. I think the piece of jade will help me more than all my money. I will keep the jade.”
“I will not take your money,” said the Lama. “Nor can you escape responsibility. There is a Middle Way, and the middle of it lies before you.”
Vasantasena frowned, her chin on both hands, studying the Lama’s face. His bright old eyes looked straight back at her out of a mass of wrinkles, but he did not move; if he smiled, there were too many wrinkles for any one to be quite sure of it.