Stephen felt the weight of Dil's unwinking scrutiny:
he scratched himself in silence and listened to the now violent pounding of his heart.
'Oh, oh, oh,' she cried at last, rising and placing her thin hands together like a temple-dancer. 'Oh, oh, I understand it now.' She writhed and stamped and swayed, chanting, 'Oh Krishna, Krishnaji, oh Stephen bahadur, Sivaji, oh melter of hearts - ha, ha, ha!' her mirth overcame her dancing and she fell to the ground. 'Dost thou understand?'
'Perhaps not quite as well as thou.'
'I shall explain, make clear. She is wooing thee - she wishes to see thee by night, oh shameless, ha, ha, ha! But why, when she has three husbands? Because she must have a fourth, like the Tibetans: they have four husbands, and the Frank women are very like Tibetans strange, strange ways. The three have not given her a child, so a fourth there must be, and she has chosen thee because thou art so unlike them. She was warned in a dream, no doubt: told where to find thee, so unlike the rest.'
'Oh yes, yes! They are fools - it is written on their foreheads. And they are rich and thou art poor; they are young and thou art ancient; they are handsome red-faced men, and thou - most holy men are hideous, though more or less innocent.
