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Srikanta 'Who can tell, sir? It's my belief, sir, that big folk get into a temper for nothing, and get over it for nothing too. God help the servants unless they can make themselves scarce, sir, when they're in a temper!'

'What do they do then, Ratan,—cut off their heads?' asked a voice suddenly from behind the door. 'If big folk's houses are so inconvenient, why don't you go elsewhere?'

At this question from his mistress, Ratan was stricken into shamefaced silence. 'What kept you so long, I wonder,' she went on. 'Mr. Srikanta has a headache: I told you about it as soon as I heard it from Banku. And that's why, I suppose, you come here at eight o'clock and sing my praises. Well, you need not remain in this house after to-morrow: you can find a job elsewhere. Do you understand?'

When she had gone, poor Ratan applied the eau-de-cologne and water to my forehead and began to fan me. Almost immediately Rajlakshmi returned. 'So you are going home to-morrow?' she asked.

I had planned to go, but I was not going home. So I said evasively, 'Yes, I'm going to-morrow morning.'

'Which train will you go by?'

'Well, I shall leave in the morning, and take any train that I can get.'

'Very well, I had better send some one to the station to get a time-table,' she said, and left me.

Ratan finished his task and went away. Gradually the household sounds subsided, till at last everything was quiet and I knew that everyone in the house was in bed.