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 on which he reclined. I could perceive that his idea was not to surrender them to me.

Damini, from behind the door, must have got wind of this, for at once she stepped in and asked: ‘Haven’t the books you ordered for me arrived yet?’

I remained silent.

‘My little mother!’ said the Swami. ‘These books are not fit for you to read.’

‘How should you know that?’

The Master frowned. ‘How, at least, could you know better?’

‘I have read the author: you, perhaps, have not.’

‘Why, then, need you read him over again?’

‘When you have any need,’ Damini flared up, ‘nothing is allowed to stand in your way. It is only I who am to have no needs!’

‘You forget yourself, Damini. I am a sannyasin. I have no worldly desires.’

‘You forget that I am not a sannyasin. I have a desire to read these books. Will you kindly let me have them?’

The Swami drew out the books from under his bolster and tossed them across to me. I handed them over to Damini. G