I had forgotten to
put salt into the curry!"

"That's hardly abusive," rejoined Ramzan.

"You think so," shouted Fatima. "Now you're taking sides with her
against your mother, who bore you. You will assuredly suffer in
Jehannam (hell) for such a crime! But I'll have it out with that
she-devil!"

So saying, she dashed from the room to the kitchen, where the
luckless Maini was cowering in anticipation of a coming storm. She
was not deceived. Fatima seized her by the hair and administered a
sound thumping.

Several days passed by, bringing no alleviation to her fate. But
matters came to a crisis on a certain morning, owing to Ramzan's
complaint that his wife had over-salted the curry. On tasting the
food, Fatima burst into violent imprecations and "went for" her
daughter-in-law, who took refuge in the neighbouring brushwood. At
nightfall she crept back to the house and found Ramzan closeted
with his mother. They were talking earnestly, but Maini could not
distinguish the purport of the conversation. It seemed to her that
Fatima's voice was raised in entreaty, and Ramzan was objecting to some
scheme proposed by her. She passed the night sleepless and in tears.

Early next day Ramzan entered her room and said gruffly, "Get up,
collect your chattels, and follow me. I am going to take you back to
Sadhu's." Maini obeyed without a word of remonstrance, and a quarter
of an hour later the ill-assorted pair might have been seen walking
towards Simulgachi.

The rainy season was now in full swing, and their path lay across
a deep nullah (ravine) through which mighty volumes of drainage
water were finding their way to the Ganges. On reaching a bamboo
foot-bridge which spanned it, Ramzan ordered his wife to go first. Ere
she reached the opposite bank, he gave her a violent shove, which
sent her shrieking vainly for help into the swirling torrent below.

Hardly had Ramzan perpetrated this odious deed than he felt he would
give his chances of bihisht (paradise) to recall it. He ran along the
bank shouting frantically, "Maini! Maini!" Alas! her slender body was
carried like a straw by the foaming water towards the Ganges and soon
disappeared in a bend of the nullah. Then her murderer sat down and
gave himself up to despair. But the sun was up; people were stirring in
the fields; and so he slunk homewards. Fatima stood on the threshold
and raised her eyebrows inquiringly; but Ramzan thrust her aside,
muttering, "It is done," and