Seeing that her master was not able to sleep, the slave-girl went out into the corridor and told the attendant to send for the slave-girl who knew the art of inducing sleep.

Smooth and glossy as a plantain tree, a fair-complexioned slave-girl tiptoed into the room. She had a pleasant face and had dressed with care. A pearl necklace and garlands of fresh flowers swayed over her shapely bosom, covered with a pink silken bodice, tied at the back. Below her small bare midriff her well-rounded hips swelled voluptuously. Round her waist she wore a skirt of pale yellow silk held in place by a girdle of pearls. On her soft, bare arms she wore pearl armlets and bracelets. Her perfumed hair, plaited with strings of pearls, hung loose. She did not wear any hard metal like gold; only pearls which were cool and soft to the touch.

Prithusen’s eyes fell on her as he turned again on his side. The slave-girl was bending over to touch his body. There was a look of uncertainty and hesitation on her face and in her large eyes: ‘Will it please the master if I smile or should I continue to look solemn out of sympathy for him?’ Prithusen felt uneasy at the girl’s perplexity. He turned his eyes away. The slave-girl began to massage his feet. The touch of her hands did not afford any pleasure to Prithusen, and he pulled his feet away. Thinking that the master was feeling cold, the slave-girl took another silken covering from the stool and spread it over him.

With one covering already over him, Prithusen felt warm enough. When a second sheet was put on him he looked at the slave-girl. The hair on her uncovered skin stood on end from the gusts of cool air coming through the door. Her body had been bared for the gratification of her master. Looking at her, it occurred to Prithusen that Sagal was similarly being pushed into the abyss of ruin for the gratification of the feudatory chief, Sarvarth, and of Acharya Pravardhan. The gentry of Sagal, the commonfolk, his own family that had attained a measure of prosperity through the untiring efforts of his wise father, he himself, his Divya … How could he feel indifferent towards any of them? Father is perfectly right, he thought. This is the proper time to remove those who are vying with one another in self-destruction. He wants me to win the confidence of the Commander-in-Chief. Divya wants me to go to her great-grandfather, the Chief Justice. He turned and his eyes again fell on the slave-girl who stood waiting in doubt and uncertainty, her chilled body covered with gooseflesh. He made a sign to her to go away and kept on tossing and turning, troubled in mind. Later, sleep brought him some relief.

When he woke up, his usual slave-girl was there with a water pitcher, basin and towel. Prithusen looked out of the door. The sky was still overcast with heavy clouds, and a light drizzle was falling. It seemed to be already long past daybreak.