We all remain schoolboys in some corner of our hearts, and I,
even I, felt somewhat pulled up. As for poor Bee, she at once
took her place solemnly, like the topmost girl of the class on
the front bench. All of a sudden she seemed to remember that she
had to face her examination.

Some people are so like eternal pointsmen lying in wait by the
line, to shunt one's train of thought from one rail to another.

Chandranath Babu had no sooner come in than he cast about for
some excuse to retire, mumbling: "I beg your pardon, I..."

Before he could finish, Bee went up to him and made a profound
obeisance, saying: "Pray do not leave us, sir. Will you not take
a seat?" She looked like a drowning person clutching at him for
support--the little coward!

But possibly I was mistaken. It is quite likely that there was a
touch of womanly wile in it. She wanted, perhaps, to raise her
value in my eyes. She might have been pointedly saying to me:
"Please don't imagine for a moment that I am entirely overcome by
you. My respect for Chandranath Babu is even greater."

Well, indulge in your respect by all means! Schoolmasters thrive
on it. But not being one of them, I have no use for that empty
compliment.

Chandranath Babu began to talk about __Swadeshi__. I thought
I would let him go on with his monologues. There is nothing like