It did not occur to her that it might yet be problematic whether Okoya would ever become a traitor to his own people.  She could not conceive how anybody might be different from her and from Tyope, and of course she had no doubt concerning his ultimate pliability.  And she relied also upon the influence Mitsha would exert upon her future husband, taking it for granted that her child had the same low standards as her parents.  That child Hannay regarded merely as a resource,—­as valuable property, marketable and to be disposed of to the most suitable bidder.  In her eyes Okoya appeared as a very desirable one.

She saw that the courtship, if thus it may be called, was advancing most favourably; and thought it proper, now that the ball was in motion, to allow it to roll alone for a short time,—­in other words, to leave the house under some pretext, abandoning the young folk to themselves.  After her return she intended to sound Okoya again, though in a more skilful manner.  So she replaced the bowl in its niche and went toward the ladder.  Before ascending it she turned and said,—­

“I will be back soon.”

The youth smiled, and she gave him a knowing, significant wink, climbed on the roof and down to the ground, and remained standing outside for a while, until she thought that the young people had forgotten about her.  Then she glided noiselessly to the air-hole and peeped in.  They still sat by the hearth, examining together some object the nature of which she could not discover; and Mitsha was explaining something to the boy.  Evidently the girl was showing him another piece of her handiwork.  She heard them laugh merrily and innocently.  They were like children at play.  Satisfied with the outlook, Hannay crept off to a neighbour’s dwelling where the whole family was gathered on the house-top.  She took her seat by the old folk and joined in the conversation.  That conversation was nothing more nor less than the merest gossip,—­Indian gossip, as genuine as any that is spoken in modern society; with this difference only, that the circle of facts and ideas accessible to the Indian mind is exceedingly narrow, and that the gossip applies itself therefore to a much smaller number of persons and things.  But it is as venomous, the backbiting as severe and merciless among Indians as among us; and there is the same disposition to criticise everything that does not strictly pertain to us and to our favourites, the same propensity to slander the absent and to be of the same opinion as those present so long as they are within hearing distance.

Gossip has a magic power.  It fascinates more than any other kind of conversation.  It fascinated Hannay, and time rolled on without her noticing it.  The night was so beautiful, so still, so placid, and it felt so comfortable outside on this terrace, whereon the moon shone so brightly, that Hannay sat and sat, listened and talked, until she had forgotten the young folk at home.