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 Hurriedly the Brahmin wiped his hands and face with the fore-part of his cloth.

"Now, my fair one?"

Ashmani. "Come hither."

Diggaja went to Ashmani and sat down by her.

Ashmani. "Draw your mouth near to mine."

Diggaja drew his month near to Ashmani's.

Ashmani. "Open your mouth."

Diggaja's obedience was implicit; he parted his lips a foot asunder. Ashmani took out a betel from her handkerchief, and began to chew it, Diggaja continuing with open mouth. When her month was entirely filled with saliva mixed with betel, she discharged the whole of its contents into Diggaja's mouth. The man was in sore straits; the beloved one had favored him with the betel juice; he had not therefore the heart to throw it out, for fear of being called ungallant, nor could he bring himself to swallow it, for how could he swallow a whole mouthful of saliva immediately after taking his meal? So it remained in his mouth, like the poison in the throat of Nilakantha.

Taking this opportunity, Ashmani took a tooth-pick and put it into one of Diggaja's capacious nostrils. On came the sneeze, and the next moment, his weak frame was deluged with the entire quantity of the nectarous fluid, which gushed out violently from his mouth.