` It is not well to cheat the temples . Give a young calf to thine own priest , and , unless thy Gods are angry past recall , she will give milk within a month . ' ' A master-beggar art thou , ' purred the priest approvingly . ` Not the cunning of forty years could have done better . Surely thou hast made the old man rich ? ' ' A little flour , a little butter and a mouthful of cardamoms , ' Kim retorted , flushed with the praise , but still cautious -- ` Does one grow rich on that ? And , as thou canst see , he is mad . But it serves me while I learn the road at least . ' He knew what the fakirs of the Taksali Gate were like when they talked among themselves , and copied the very inflection of their lewd disciples . ` Is his Search , then , truth or a cloak to other ends ? It may be treasure . ' ` He is mad -- many times mad . There is nothing else . ' Here the old soldier bobbled up and asked if Kim would accept his hospitality for the night . The priest recommended him to do so , but insisted that the honour of entertaining the lama belonged to the temple -- at which the lama smiled guilelessly . Kim glanced from one face to the other , and drew his own conclusions . ` Where is the money ? ' he whispered , beckoning the old man off into the darkness . ` In my bosom . Where else ? '
` XXXXX it me .
Give Is accept beckoning copied drew glanced grow recommended retorted