" She went to
examine the reflection of her face in the water, but, failing to see
anything, returned to her former place. "It cannot be; why do I think
of that? Surja Mukhi is more beautiful than I. Haro Mani, Bishu,
Mukta, Chandra, Prasunna, Bama, Pramada, are all more beautiful. Even
Hira is more beautiful; yes, notwithstanding her dark complexion, her
face is more beautiful. Then if it is not beauty, is it disposition?
Let me think. I can't find any attraction in myself. Kamal said it to
satisfy me. Why should he love me? Yet why should Kamal try to flatter
me? Who knows? But I will not die; I will think of that. Though it is
false I will ponder over it; I will think that true which is false.
But I cannot go to Calcutta; I should not see him. I cannot, cannot
go; yet if not, what shall I do? If Kamal's words are true, then those
who have done so much for me are being made to suffer through me. I
can see that there is something in Surja Mukhi's mind. True or false I
will have to go; but I cannot! Then I must drown myself. If I must die
I will die! Oh, my father! did you leave me here to such a fate?"
Then Kunda, putting her hands to her face, gave way to weeping.
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