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 Tilottama neared the door but could approach no further. Her feet could not do their office; she took hold of the door, and stood there.

"What's this?" asked the bearer of the ring, seeing Tilottama pause. "Why do you stop here?"

Still Tilottama could not go.

"If you don't wish to enter in" said the man, "please return then; this is not the time to linger here."

Tilottama prepared to return; but she could not go that way either. What could she do? The guard was impatient. While vacillating thus, Tilottama unconsciously advanced a foot, and was in the room.

No sooner she saw the Prince, than she was again deprived of farther motion. She held by the wall and paused near the door, hanging down her head.

The Prince could not at first recognise Tilottama. He was surprised to see a woman. Seeing her pause near the wall, without approaching him, he was still more surprised. He rose from his bed and approached the door; he saw, and—he recognised.

For a moment their eyes met; anon Tilottama's were cast to the ground; her body slightly inclined forwards as if seeking the feet of the Prince.

He drew back a little, and anon Tilottama stood like one spell-bound and motionless as a statue; her bosom which but an instant before had bloomed like a lotus, became suddenly withered.

"Virendra Singha's daughter?" said the Prince.

Tilottama felt as if a dagger had entered her vitals. "Virendra Singha's daughter?" Is that the present address?