'Thou knowest he died! I only waited for the order to take away the tray.' 'It is I that am the woman of ill-omen,' cried the old lady penitently.
'We that go down to the chattris [the big umbrellas above the burning-ghats where the priests take their last dues] clutch hard at the bearers of the chattis [water-jars--young folk full of the pride of life, she meant; but the pun is clumsy].

When one cannot dance in the festival one must e'en look out of the window, and grandmothering takes all a woman's time.

Thy master gives me all the charms I now desire for my daughter's eldest, by reason--is it ?--that he is wholly free from sin.

The hakim is brought very low these days.

He goes about poisoning my servants for lack of their betters.' 'What hakim, mother ?' 'That very Dacca man who gave me the pill which rent me in three pieces.