precocity and, being Western too, rode rough-shod on convention when
it suited her, reserving her concessions to it solely for occasions when
those matched the hand she held. All her life she has had to play in a
ruthless game, but the trump that she has learned to lead oftenest is
unexpectedness. And now to the story.





Chapter One



Royal Rajasthan

There is a land where no resounding street
With babel of electric-garish night
And whir of endless wheels has put to flight
The liberty of leisure. Sandaled feet
And naked soles that feel the friendly dust
Go easily along the never measured miles.
A land at which the patron tourist smiles
Because of gods in whom those people trust
(He boasting One and trusting not at all);
A land where lightning is the lover's boon,
And honey oozing from an amber moon
Illumines footing on forbidden wall;
Where, 'stead of pursy jeweler's display,
Parading peacocks brave the passer-by,