room to find the man about to insult me.

I shall never forget the picture of her wrath! That Bee is
beautiful is a discovery of my own. Most of our people would see
nothing in her. Her tall, slim figure these boors would call
"lanky". But it is just this lithesomeness of hers that I
admire--like an up-leaping fountain of life, coming direct out of
the depths of the Creator's heart. Her complexion is dark, but
it is the lustrous darkness of a sword-blade, keen and
scintillating.

"Nanku!" she commanded, as she stood in the doorway, pointing
with her finger, "leave us."

"Do not be angry with him," said I. "If it is against orders, it
is I who should retire."

Bee's voice was still trembling as she replied: "You must not go.
Come in."

It was not a request, but again a command! I followed her in,
and taking a chair fanned myself with a fan which was on the
table. Bee scribbled something with a pencil on a sheet of paper
and, summoning a servant, handed it to him saying: "Take this to
the Maharaja."

"Forgive me," I resumed. "I was unable to control myself, and
hit that man of yours.

"You served him right," said Bee.