but this was the first time they'd
seen each other. He was in the French army, she said, a captain, and
older than most of the men she knew best, but very handsome, and rich as
well as clever. It was only at the last, after she'd praised the man a
great deal, that she mentioned his having Arab blood. Even then she
hurried on to say his mother was a Spanish woman, and he had been partly
educated in France, and spoke perfect French, and English too. They had
danced together, and Saidee had never met so interesting a man. She
thought he was like the hero of some romance; and she told me I would
see him, because he'd begged Mrs. Ray to be allowed to call. He had
asked Saidee lots of questions, and she'd told him even about me--so he
sent me his love. She seemed to think I ought to be pleased, but I
wasn't. I'd read the 'Arabian Nights', with pictures, and I knew Arabs
were dark people. I didn't look down on them particularly, but I
couldn't bear to have Say interested in an Arab. It didn't seem right
for her, somehow."

The girl stopped, and apparently forgot to go on. She had been speaking
with short pauses, as if she hardly realized that she was talking aloud.
Her eyebrows drew together, and she sighed. Stephen knew that some
memory pressed heavily upon her, but soon she began again.

"He came next day. He was handsome, as Saidee had said--as handsome as
the Arab on board this ship, but in a different way. He looked noble and
haughty--yet as if he might be very selfish and hard. Perhaps he was
about thirty-three or four, and that seemed old to me then--old even to
Saidee. But she was fascinated. He came often, and she saw him at other
houses. Everywhere she was going, he would find out, and go too. That
pleased her--for he was an important man somehow, and of good birth.
Besides, he was desperately in love--even a child could see that. He
never took his eyes off Saidee's face when she was with him. It was as
if he could eat her up; and if she flirted a little with the real French
officers, to amuse herself or tease him, it drove him half mad. She
liked that--it was exciting, she used to say. And I forgot to tell you,
he wore European dress, except for a fez--no turban, like this man's on
the boat, or I'm sure she couldn't have cared for him in the way she
did--he wouldn't have seemed _possible_, for a Christian girl. A man in
a turban! You understand, don't you?"

"Yes, I understand," Stephen said. He understood, too,