THE UNWELCOME THRONE Kathlyn sensed great loneliness when, about a month later, she arrived at the basin in Calcutta.

A thousand or more natives were bathing ceremoniously in the ghat--men, women and children.

It was early morn, and they were making solemn genuflections toward the bright sun.

The water-front swarmed with brown bodies, and great wheeled carts drawn by sad-eyed bullocks threaded slowly through the maze.

The many white turbans, stirring hither and thither, reminded her of a field of white poppies in a breeze.