as full as
they could hold. Those who were not too drunk appeared ready for
anything in or out of reason.

At that stage of the proceedings they ushered in the dancing
girls. The servants cleared away most of the food, removed the
table-cloths, and a ring was formed practically all around the
room, the notables leaning their backs against the wall to ease
overworked bellies. I set my cushion down next to a very drunken
man just by the narrow door that opened on the stairway leading
to the ramparts. He fell asleep with his head on my shoulder
within five minutes, and as that, for some subtle reason, seemed
to make me even more unnoticeable I let him snore away in peace.

Over in Abdul Ali's corner of the room there was a real council
of war going on in whispers. Opposite to him, ten paces or so
distant from me, Jimgrim Suliman ben Saoud was holding a rival
show. It seemed about an even bet which was making greater
headway. Those who were more or less drunk, and all the younger
sheikhs had eyes and ears for nothing but the dancing girls.

They were outrageous hussies. They wore more clothes than a
Broadway chorus lady, and rather less paint, but if they were
symbols of the Moslem paradise (as a learned Arab once assured me
that they are meant to be) then, as I answered the Arab on that
occasion, "me for hell." But none of those sheikhs had ever seen
Broadway, so you could hardly blame them.

Abdul Ali of Damascus seemed to have his arrangements with the
men in his corner cinched at last to his satisfaction. He walked
a little unsteadily across the room, apparently to make his peace
with Suliman ben Saoud. He held brazenly in one hand a leather
wallet that bulged with paper money--doubtless the "documents"
that he had sent for. He nodded to me as he passed with
more familiarity than he had any right to, since he had so
ostentatiously dismissed me to the dogs. I suppose he felt so
sure of "convincing" Suliman ben Saoud, and was so bent on
offsetting the reaction caused by Anazeh's behavior that he had
been reviving that project about the school and therefore chose
to appear on intimate terms with me. I met him more than
half-way; any one who cared to might believe I loved him like
a brother.

He stood in front of Suliman ben Saoud, rocking just a trifle
from the effects of alcohol and smoke, and there was about five
minutes' conversation of which, although I missed a lot of it, I
caught the general