Chunerbutty pretended to think. Then he began to expose tentatively, as if
it were an idea just come to him, a plan that he had conceived weeks
before.

"_Maharaj Sahib_, if I could make the girl my wife--"

The Rajah half rose up and spluttered out furiously:

"You dog, wouldst thou dare to rival me, to interfere between me and my
desires?"

The engineer hastened to pacify the angry man.

"No, no, Your Highness. You misunderstand me. Surely you know that you can
trust me. What I mean is that, if I married her, she would have to obey me,
and--" he smiled insinuatingly and significantly--"I am a loyal subject of
Your Highness."

The fat debauchee stared at him uncomprehendingly for a few moments. Then
understanding dawned, and his bloated face creased into a lascivious smile.

"I see. I see. Then marry her," he said, sinking back on the cushions.

"Your Highness forgets that the salary they pay a tea-garden engineer is
not enough to tempt a girl to marry him nor support them if she did."

"That is true," replied the Rajah thoughtfully. He was silent for a little,
and then he said: