‘What about your chess?’ asked Kamalakar, himself an ardent player.
‘Before I got into bridge,’ said Raja Rao, ‘I used to concentrate on chess. These days, whenever I find myself at the chessboard, I play more with my hand than head.’
‘Interesting,’ wondered Kamalakar.
‘Like chess,’ theorized Raja Rao, ‘bridge too is a scientific game. While chess is all about cold logic, in bridge, in spite of your grasp of the game, the element of uncertainty lends charm to it.’
Finding that Sandhya wasn’t taking her eyes off him, Raja Rao said, ‘You seem to be a keen observer,’ and added after a pause, ‘How do you find Delhi?’
Seeing the smile in his eyes, she felt shy, but said nevertheless, ‘It’s Capital.’
‘Your economy of expression,’ he said with a smile, ‘is admirable.’
‘You must be a well-read person,’ said Sandhya in admiration.
‘Whatever little I read,’ said Raja Rao, ‘I read well.’
‘His reading includes,’ said Madhava Rao, as though for Sandhya’s ears, ‘hand-reading as well.’
‘Would you like to show me you hand?’ Raja Rao asked Sandhya.
‘I don’t know if it would interest you,’ she said trying to gauge his feelings.
‘We’ll find that out after dinner,’ he said with a smile.
While all moved into the drawing hall after dinner, Raja Rao stayed back in the dining room as though to remind Sandhya about her engagement. Getting the cue, she rejoined him and without a word stretched out her left hand for his take.
‘May I have your right hand,’ he suggested as though getting her onto the right track.
‘When did you take to palmistry?’ she asked him, as he was feeling her palm all over.
‘When I could imagine the possibilities,’ he said, looking into her eyes.
‘What do you mean?’ she sounded suspicious.
‘I mean the possibility of holding hands,’ he said tantalizingly, ‘to read in between the lines on them.’
‘Oh,’ she withdrew her hand, ‘you’re cleverer by half.’
‘Never mind,’ he said, ‘you’ve a fine hand that’s promising too.’
‘This,’ she said teasing him, ‘could be your stock prediction.’
‘Never before with the same conviction and feeling,’ he said not to be outdone.
‘You’re truly impossible,’ she said in that mock frustration in which a woman looks beautifully helpless.
‘Honestly, let me see what it portends,’ he said, reaching for her hand.
‘Why are you so curious?’ she said withholding her hand.
‘Just to ascertain,’ he said looking into her eyes, ‘your marriage prospects.’
‘But,’ she continued as though under the spell of his charm, ‘how does that concern you?’