Where the windows were closed, the sparrows, taking them
for open doorways, pecked at them with their beaks till they were
ready to drop. The women-servants, broom in hand, were victorious
everywhere. Before long the place again wore a smiling appearance, and
at length Nagendra arrived.
It was evening. As a river courses swiftly when at flood, but at ebb
the deep water is calm, so Nagendra's violent grief was now changed
into a quiet gravity. His sorrow was not lessened, but he was no
longer restless. In a quiet manner he conversed with the household,
making inquiries from each one. In the presence of none of them did
he mention the name of Surja Mukhi, but all were grieved at the sorrow
expressed by his grave countenance. The old servants, saluting him,
went aside and wept. One person only did Nagendra wound. With the
long-sorrowing Kunda he did not speak.
By the orders of Nagendra the servants prepared his bed in Surja
Mukhi's room. At this order Kamal Mani shook her head. At midnight,
when all the household had retired, Nagendra went to Surja Mukhi's
chamber, not to lie down, but to weep. Surja Mukhi's room was spacious
and beautiful; it was the temple of all Nagendra's joys, therefore he
had adorned it with care.
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