Yonder is thy Temple.

Now I am a poor man--many priests have dealt with me--but my son is my son, and if a gift to thy master can cure him--I am at my very wits' end.' Kim considered for a while, tingling with pride.

Three years ago he would have made prompt profit on the situation and gone his way without a thought; but now, the very respect the Jat paid him proved that he was a man.

Moreover, he had tasted fever once or twice already, and knew enough to recognize starvation when he saw it.
'Call him forth and I will give him a bond on my best yoke, so that the child is cured.' Kim halted at the carved outer door of the temple.

A white-clad Oswal banker from Ajmir, his sins of usury new wiped out, asked him what he did.
'I am chela to Teshoo Lama, an Holy One from Bhotiyal--within there.