ANITA DESAI: Games at Twilight and Other Stories Read this extract, and then answer the question that follows it: That evening he had tried to question her again but she was tired, vague, merely brushed the hair from her face and murmured 'Yes, that's Guru Dina Nath. He's so sweet - so gay – so -' and went up to bed. He sniffed the air in the room suspiciously. Was it bhang? But he wouldn't know what it smelt like if it were. He imagined it would be sweetish and the air in their room was sour, acid. He wrenched the window open, with violence, hoping to wake her. It did not. 5 The day he gave up questioning her or pursuing her was when she came in, almost prancing, he thought, like some silly mare, burbling, 'Do you remember Nasogi, David? That darling village where we ate apricots? You remember its temple like a little dolls' house? Well, I met some folks who live in a commune right next to it - a big attic over a cow shed actually, but it overlooks the temple and has an orchard all around it, so it's real nice. Edith – she's from Harlem - took me across, and I had coffee with some of them –' 'Sure it was coffee?' he snarled and, turning his back, hurled himself at the typewriter with such frenzy that she could not make herself heard. She sat on her bed, chewing her lip for a while, then got up and went out again. What she had planned to say to him was put away, like an unsuccessful gift. 10 15 20 She kept out of his way after that, and made no further attempts to take him along with her on the way to nirvana. When, at breakfast, he told her, ‘It's time I got back to Delhi. I've got more material to research down there and I can't sit here in your valley and contemplate the mountains any more. I plan to book some seats on that plane for Delhi.' 25 She was shocked, although she made a stout attempt to disguise it, and he was gratified to see this. 'When d'you want to leave?' she asked, spitting a plum seed into her fist. 'Next Monday, I think,' he said. 30 She said nothing and disappeared for the rest of the day. She was out again before he'd emerged from his bath next morning, and he had to go down to the bus depot by himself, hating every squalid step of the way: the rag market where Tibetans sold stained and soiled imported clothes to avid Indian tourists and played dice in the dust while waiting for customers, the street where snot-gobbed urchins raced and made puppies scream, only just managing to escape from under roaring lorries and stinking buses. He directed looks of fury at the old beggar without a nose or fingers who solicited him for alms and at the pig-tailed Tibetan with one turquoise ear- ring who tried to sell him a mangey pup. 35 40 In this extract (from Scholar and Gypsy) how does Desai vividly convey David's rising frustration with his wife and with life in India?