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'Mischief,' echoed Amit. Biswas Babu had never talked in this vein to him before.
'Of course,' thought Biswas Babu aloud, glancing in a melancholy way at the rows of law-books around him, 'that is not true in all cases. But you must not leave it till you are more than thirty. Do you have headache?' he asked, concerned, for Amit looked as if he was in pain.
'A slight headache,' said Amit. 'Nothing serious.'
'An arranged marriage with a sober girl, that is the solution. And I will also think about a helpmeet for Dipankar.'
They were both quiet for a minute. Amit broke the silence.
'Nowadays people say that you should choose your own life-partner, Biswas Babu. Certainly, poets like myself say that.'
'What people think, what people say, and what people do are two different things,' said Biswas Babu. 'Now I and Mrs Biswas are happily married for thirty-four years. Where is the harm in an arrangement like that? Nobody asked me. One day my father said it is fixed.'
'But if I find someone myself -'vïii
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