| editor, The Modern Review, Volume 21, Number 6… (1917)
“ One who goes away leaving everything empty, leaves the imprint of a living heart even on lifeless objects. In the dead of night when the heavy rain had ceased and the songs of the village opera troupe had become silent, Bhusan was sitting in the same position as before. Outside the window there was such an impenetrable darkness that it seemed to him as if the very gates of oblivion were before him reaching to the sky,—as if he had only to cry out to be able to recover sight of those things which seemed to have been lost for ever. ”
