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 like one that had lost his senses, and then returned to his apartment.

There was dancing that night in the harem of Katlu Khan. He did not, like the Mogal Emperors, celebrate his anniversary in festive mirth and gaity in the midst of his courtiers;—his nature was intensely selfish, and ever craved for the lusts of the flesh. That night he was surrounded by his sweet-hearts, and was engaged in mirth and fun with them. There was no other dancing girl,—no other spectator. No one could go there except the eunuchs. Some were dancing, some were singing and some keeping measure; the rest sat round Katlu Khan and listened.

Nothing that could please the sense was lacking there. You entered the chamber, and a grateful coolness spread itself over your body, on account  of the odour of fragrant waters, which kept continually sprinkling. The splendour of ever so many silver, ivory a crystal vessels dazzled your sight. No end of flowers—here in garlands—there in heaps—and there again in bouquets;—they graced the hair of the fair ones,—they gleamed mildly over their neck. Some carried the flowery fan—some were decked in flowers—some were throwitng bouquets at others,