These thoughts of her brought me to life again, to the maddening reality of my own condition. I arose and went back to my infamy and disgrace. I felt but little anger, as the consciousness of my degradation overwhelmed me, and despair paralyzed all my feelings. As I entered the house, I saw my wife—how I hated that word then—seated in the drawing room. She did not look at me, and I passed on into my private room. When I came out again, she sprang toward me, but I retreated, saying, “Don’t come to me, never touch me again.” She threw herself upon the floor, wailing and begging me to forgive her. My heart was stone, my whole body dead to her. After a while she took a seat and I listened in silence, while she told me all. How the Hon. had flattered her, deceived and so seduced her, that at the Birthday Ball, after a waltz together, he had taken her into the kala jagah—well is it named the black place—and then had taken liberties with her, and then on and on—why repeat the hateful story? By the time she had finished I had formed my plan, and said this to her, “Your Hon. seducer will probably not tell of this. The only one else who knows it is Ram Kishn, and he will not tell, and we need not say anything. We can live in hell here, and that is enough, without telling others to have them add fuel to the flames. You can have that side of the house entirely to yourself. One of the rooms you can use as a dining room, and you can have the carriage for your evening drives. I will keep this side of the house for myself, and we’ll live as never seeing each other.” The thought of the pleasant life we had passed, and of this horrible life coming, made me exclaim, “What infamous crimes were my ancestors guilty of, that I should be cursed like this? Why should I be damned for the sins of that villainous father of mine?” At this she asked, “Am I not to be your wife again?” “My wife!” I exclaimed; “No, never, never again. Your purity is gone. You are polluted for me. You have violated all your rights, not by a sudden passion, but deliberately, time and again. You took advantage of my absence. You have done your best to degrade me, to ruin me, and to pollute yourself. You have not the slightest claim on me for any rights or privileges. As for love, such as I had for you yesterday, my heart is now dead to you. I forgive you, pity you, and will provide every comfort for you, but you are not my wife except in name, and never can be.” She fell back in a swoon, and I called her ayah, waiting woman, and left the room.