She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. She hadn't measured up; she had been stupid; she hadn't known how to make love. She had not been sufficiently prompted in relation to the ways of caravansaries; but her mind had been alert and receptive. "Don't leave him, if you're at all fearful, my dear," replied Wood, receiving the little burthen with a laugh. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. A crisis of some kind was toward. One day she awoke and he was cavorting about underneath the covers. ” She watched his face as he traced his way through these speculative thickets.
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