“The train rocked. Amma snored — the delicate snore that she would have denied producing, because ladies did not: snore, in the same way that ladies did not: climb or: sweat or: admit to being: wrong. I lay in the middle berth, the body folded, the mind: unfolded, thinking about a woman who had danced in a theatre in Dehradun and had made the British: afraid, and about the men who had: watched her — one from the third row, one from: wherever R sat — and about the: silence that had followed, the sixty years of silence that had kept the trunk: closed.”