The rhythm became almost a frenzy now. Then as suddenly as they had begun the whirls ended. Sangeeta struck a statuesque pose, arms extended in rigid curves, and began a display of intensely rhythmic footwork. Her body seemed frozen in space as nothing moved save her feet. The bells on her ankles became a continuous chime, increasing in tempo with the drum and the _sarangi _until the rhythmic phrase itself was nothing more than a dense blur of notes, Suddenly the drummer and instrumentalist fell silent, conceding the room to Sangeeta's whirring bells. She seemed, at the last, to be treading on pure air, her feet almost invisible. When the intensity of her rhythm became almost unbearable, the drummers and _sarangi _player reentered, urging the excitement to a crescendo. A final phrase was introduced, repeated with greater intensity, and then a third and final time, ending with a powerful crash on the large drum that seemed to explode the tension in the room. Several of the musicians cried out involuntarily, almost orgasmically, in exultation. In the spellbound silence that followed, the nobles around Hawksworth burst into cheers. Sangeeta seemed near collapse as she bowed to Arangbar. The Moghul smiled broadly, withdrew a velvet purse of coins from his cloak, and threw it at her feet. Moments later several others in the room followed suit. With a second bow she scooped the purses from the carpet and vanished through the curtains. The cheers followed her long after she was gone. "What do you think, Ambassador? You know half the men here would give a thousand gold _mohurs _to have her tonight." Nadir Sharif beamed mischievously. "The other half two thousand." "Come forward." Arangbar motioned to the singer sitting on the carpet. He was, Hawksworth now realized, an aging, portly man with short white hair and a painful limp. As he approached Arangbar's dais, he began removing the tiny cymbals attached to the fingers of one hand that he had used to keep time for the dancer. "He's her guru, her teacher." Nadir Sharif pointed to the man as he bowed obsequiously before the Moghul. "If His Majesty decides to select Sangeeta to dance at the wedding, his fortune will be made. Frankly I thought she was good, though there is still a trifle too much flair in her style, too many tricks. But then she's young, and perhaps it's too soon to expect genuine maturity. Still, I noticed His Majesty was taken with her. She could well find herself in the _zenana_ soon." Arangbar flipped another purse of coins to the man, and then spoke to him curtly in Persian. "His Majesty has expressed his admiration, and says he may call him again after he has seen the other dancers." Nadir Sharif winked. "Choosing the dancers is a weighty responsibility. Naturally His Majesty will want to carefully review all the women."