Thus they gabbled in the bazaars, round braziers and dung fires.
And some talked of the murder.

The proud Ramabai had been haled to prison; his banker's gold had not saved him.

Oh, this street rat Umballa generally got what he wanted.

Ramabai's wife was one of the beauties of Hind.
Through the narrow, evil smelling streets of the bazaars a man hurried that night, glancing behind frequently to see if by any mischance some one followed.

He stopped at the house of Lal Singh, the shoemaker, whom he found drowsing over his water pipe.
"Is it well ?" said the newcomer, intoning.
"It is well," answered Lal Singh, dropping the mouthpiece of his pipe.
He had spoken mechanically.