As she told the story once again to the Maharajah, adding many things that Sonny Sahib had never heard before, he became so much interested that he stood on one foot for five minutes at a time, and quite forgot to ask His Highness again if he might sit down.
The Maharajah heard her to the end without a word or a change of expression.

When she had finished, 'My soldiers were not there,' he said thoughtfully, and with a shade of regret, which was not, I fear, at the thought of any good they might have done.

Then he seemed to reflect, while Tooni stood before him with her hands joined together at the finger-tips and her head bowed.
'Then, without permission, you brought this child of outcasts into my State,' said he at last.

'That was an offence.' Tooni struck her forehead with her hand.
'Your Highness is my father and my mother!' she sobbed, 'I could not leave it to the jackals.' 'You are a wretched Mussulman, the daughter of cow-killers, and you may have known no better--' 'Your Highness!' remarked Sonny Sahib, with respectful indignation, 'Adam had two sons, one was buried and one was burned--' 'Choop!' said the Maharajah crossly.

You might almost guess that 'Choop' meant 'Be quiet!' 'But it was an offence,' he continued.
'Protector of the poor, I meant no harm.' 'That is true talk.