I felt as though I had drunk quinine. Like a deflated balloon I sank into the armed chair with a sigh and wondered and wondered. In a slumber I recollected a long-forgotten story of Mrs. Packletide and Mrs. Bimberton who avoided each other's sight because of bitter jealousy. When I opened my eyes, to my horror, I sawI beheld a strange sight of divine justice. A pro-hartal woman activist pulled down a young passenger from a rickshaw and slapped him publicly!

I could not help admiring this 'tigress' of Aunt Jennifer. How long will it continue?