She moved away from him and leaned over the window to catch a glimpse of starry sky. She looked at him, then, and again her whole being welled through her, trying to burst the bonds of her throat. The limelight lay on his face, and the thin face shone out like a pale moon.
Her whole being began to hammer in her throat and unconsciously she took a step towards him. He turned.
All of his things were at sixes and sevens. Mila began to arrange them properly.
"Mila," he whispered.
He held her hands, looking down at her. Her eyes fell, and the cream of her eyelids became white veils of modesty. He was breathing heavily and he felt-the symphony of death. The memory of Mila would not die away till his death. Memory always lingers on.
Suddenly he coughed. A torrent of hot raw blood came out from his mouth. Then and there, Mila got up and washed his face. He lay down noiselessly. From his bed, he saw, she came slowly, and he saw each step, each movement, a perfection of grace; the light of her beauty lumining her plain dress, der head held high. She was so unassailable and so beautiful and he would always feel the absence of her company.
"You know, we always laugh at the silly stories of Indian pictures," he said. "But we should not really. The silly stories are always true. There's always a marriage for the heroine, at the end with another man, who's probably in love with some one else. Moreover, in some pictures, as heroes are suffering from T. B. ; heroines have to marry unknown men, after singing some sorrowful songs.
"Do you understand, what you are talking about " She laughed naturally this time.
"In a nutshell, I am trying to talk about your marriage."
A sick silence enveloped her.
"You must marry, some one else," he said quietly. "I won't go to Gauhati now. I am going to stay here or in some unknown grave for ever. Somehow I will try my best till my end."
He knew he had hurt her. She aveided his glance.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "But you won't have to worry about me. Not after to-night. I know that I throw cold water on your bold and vigorous step. But don't think that I am at daggers drawn with you."