"The book also tells of the bodies of women. Foolish men often do not know these things, my love, but I think you are beginning to learn. It tells that in the upper cleft of the _yoni _there's a small organ it likens to a plantain-shoot sprouting from the ground. This is the seat of pleasure in a woman, and when it is excited, her_ kama salila _flows in profusion."
"When the woman is ready, you may both enjoy the act of union to its fullest. And there are many, many ways this may be done. The book tells of thirty-two. It is the great wisdom of Kalyana Mai that a woman must have variety in her love couch. If she does not find this with one man, she will seek others. It is the same with men, I think."
Hawksworth nodded noncommittally, not wishing to appear overly enthusiastic.
"Finally, he tells the importance of a woman reaching her moment of enjoyment. If she does not, she will be unsatisfied and may seek pleasure elsewhere. In India, a woman is taught to signify this moment by the _sitkrita_, the drawing in of breath between the closed teeth. There are many different ways a woman may do this, but you will know, my love."
"Enough of the book." He took it and replaced it in the box. "Somehow I think I've already had a lot of its lessons."
"That was merely my duty to you. To be a new woman for you each night. And I think you've learned well." She took the box and settled it beside the couch. Then she laughed lightly. "But you still have a few things to learn. Tonight, for our last time together, I will show you the most erotic embrace I know." She examined him with her half-closed eyes, and drew one last burst of smoke from the hookah. Then she carefully positioned the large velvet bolster in the center of the couch. "Are you capable of it?"
"Very well. But I must be deeply aroused to enjoy this fully. Come and let me show you all the places you must bite."
The sun was directly overhead when Vasant Rao reined his iron-gray stallion to a halt at the Abidjan Gate. Behind him, beyond the grove of mango and tamarind trees, lay the stone reservoir of Surat. It was almost a mile in circumference, and he had chosen its far bank as campground for his Rajput guard. Accommodations in Surat were nonexistent during the season, and although he could have cleared a guest house with a single name, Prince Jadar, he had chosen to remain inconspicuous.