India."

"I know. But I do not care. I must have her. I _will_ have her." He filled
a tumbler with liqueur and sipped it. "I have sent for you to find a way.
You are clever. You know the customs of these English. You have often told
me how you did as you wished with the white women in England."

"That is very different. It is easy there," and Chunerbutty smiled at
pleasant memories. "There the women are shameless, and they prefer us to
their own colour. And the men are not jealous. They are proud that their
daughters and sisters should know us."

He helped himself to the liqueur.

"Why do you not go to England?" he continued. "There every woman would
throw herself at your feet. They make much of the Hindu students, the sons
of fat _bunniahs_ and shopkeepers in Calcutta, because they think them all
Indian princes. For you who really are one they would do anything."

The Rajah sat up furious and dashed his glass down on the tray so violently
that it shivered to atoms.

"Go to England? Have I not tried to?" he cried. "But every time I ask, the
Viceroy refuses me permission. I, a rajah, the son of rajahs, must beg
leave like a servant from a man whose grandfather was a nobody--and be
refused. May his womenkind be dishonoured! May his grave be defiled!"

He filled another glass and emptied it before continuing.

"But, I tell you, I want this girl. I must have her. You must get her for