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I was through. I started peeling the mango. Gandhi and others laughed. Gandhi explained that they usually turned it in their hands and squeezed it to make it soft, and then sucked out the contents, but I was right to peel it to see whether it was good. He said, “You will earn a medal of courage for being ready to eat as we do.” I had finished the meal and Kurshed indicated with her head that I could go before Gandhi got up. I bowed to him, got my hat and shoes, and left. Kurshed said Gandhi would see me at three.

Indians usually do not shake hands. When they meet or part, they put their two palms together at the level of their mouths, smile sweetly, and sway. It makes them look very kindly and innocent. When I bowed to Gandhi, he gave me the touch-palm goodbye.

I went home, slept from twelve to one, and got up covered with perspiration. I took my third bath of the day in the water room; I simply stood and poured water over me from a small bronze vessel.

At a few minutes to three, I walked across the hundred yards of hot gravel and sand which separated my house from Gandhi’s. The heat made the whole inside of my head feel dry. The temperature was a hundred and ten. When I entered Gandhi’s room, six men in white were sitting on the floor of his room. A woman in a black sari was

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