Let the White go to the White and the Black to the Black.
Then, whatever trouble falls is in the ordinary course of things--
neither sudden, alien, nor unexpected.
This is the story of a man who wilfully stepped beyond the safe
limits of decent every-day society, and paid for it heavily.
He knew too much in the first instance; and he saw too much in the
second. He took too deep an interest in native life; but he will
never do so again.
Deep away in the heart of the City, behind Jitha Megji's bustee,
lies Amir Nath's Gully, which ends in a dead-wall pierced by one
grated window. At the head of the Gully is a big cow-byre, and the
walls on either side of the Gully are without windows. Neither
Suchet Singh nor Gaur Chand approved of their women-folk looking
into the world. If Durga Charan had been of their opinion, he would
have been a happier man to-day, and little Biessa would have been
able to knead her own bread. Her room looked out through the grated
window into the narrow dark Gully where the sun never came and where
the buffaloes wallowed in the blue slime.
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