With half his mind he’d noted the demurely covered head but he was still taken aback by the formality of her greeting. His arm went round her, releasing a waft of fragrance from the violet folds of her shawl, as he asked, ‘Heart of my heart, why so many strange happenings?’
She disengaged herself sinuously, and before he could protest, Almitra began what was evidently a prepared speech. She was going to be married. They had been very happy together but now it must come to an end.
He simply could not take the words in. Yet at the same time, something deep within him understood what he was hearing only too clearly, loosening streams that poured down his cheeks almost impersonally, as if from melting snows.
Almitra’s voice changed. ‘Ruddi, chota, sweet one. Be wise. Yes, of course, I love
