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38 to me at intervals, but we did not get far beyond questions and answers. "Could I sing?" "Did I read poetry?" "What poet was my favourite?" "How long did I expect to remain at my sister's?"

In return I expressed my admiration of his song, and most sincere I was when I expressed it. Possibly he was pleased, for he replied, "I do not know many Bengali songs, I see I must learn them now."

This was the only remark I heard him make that seemed agreeable to me; I thought he spoke sincerely then.

After dinner he sang again,

The song was over, but to me it was unfinished, something was left out. I was charmed but not satisfied.