If the Mahatma thinks it will be safer in the United States, my friend and I will see that he gets there, at our expense.
"It was in my mind," he went on, "to drive a hard bargain with the Mahatma.

I was going to offer him protection in return for knowledge.
But it is not fair to drive bargains with a man so closely beset as he is.

Therefore I offer him protection without terms." With that he tossed the black _sari_ aside and strode down the narrow carpet to where the Mahatma sat beside me, giving Yasmini a mere nod of courtesy as he turned his back on her.

And until King reached us, the Mahatma squatted there beckoning one crooked forefinger, like a man trying to coax a snake out of its hole.

King stood there smiling and looked down into his eyes, which suddenly lost their look of staring into infinity.