These wrought in my blood, woke tumult in my stomach, and dazzled my ears.' Here he drank scalding black-tea ceremonially, taking the hot cup from Kim's hand.

'Had I been passionless, the evil blow would have done only bodily evil--a scar, or a bruise--which is illusion.

But my mind was not abstracted, for rushed in straightway a lust to let the Spiti men kill.

In fighting that lust, my soul was torn and wrenched beyond a thousand blows.

Not till I had repeated the Blessings' (he meant the Buddhist Beatitudes) 'did I achieve calm.