thing had happened three times, and that it had
suddenly struck her that she was being headed in the direction of a
quarter where unveiled women peered from windows with great eyes made
larger by the rims of kohl smeared on the lid, and the cheeks rendered
dead white with the powder that proves so strangely attractive to the
eastern prostitute, she suddenly made up her mind to get herself out of
the danger and difficulty. She was utterly lost, and walking at a pace
that was almost a run, turned into the street she found nearest.

Not one open door did she see; at least, not one that was not congested
with women sitting smoking or eating sticky sweetmeats, or drying their
heads plastered in the henna clay which would eventually dye their hair
the red favoured of man.

She was wellnigh breathless and wondering for how long she could
continue when the man suddenly appeared at the top of the street into
which she had just turned, and seeing her salaamed deeply.

Back she twisted like a hunted hare and raced up the street through
which she had just passed.

It was empty, but on her left standing ajar was a door painted bright
blue.

CHAPTER VII

Without pausing to think she entered, closing it behind her just as the
man relentlessly pursuing her passed in ignorance on the other side.

In the middle of the courtyard two Eastern women in the domestic act of
disembowelling a kid looked up lazily, and one smiling, pointed to the
upper storey of the house, through the small windows of which came the
sound of stringed instruments, and seeing that the stranger did not
understand, explained her gesture in broken French:

"_Au premiez etase--voz amieze--les anglaiseez."

No idea of any further possible danger entering her head, and at a
complete loss to understand, but thankful for her present safety, Jill
crossed the court, slipping unromantically on a piece of the animal's
entrails which lay about, and entering a low door mounted the stairs.

Through a curtained archway the distinct twang of an American voice
came to her as a message of peace, so pushing back the stuff she
entered to find herself confronted by ten pairs of eyes of different
nationality.

"Come right in," twanged the same voice, "guess you're from the same
boat! Cute of you to find your way here all by your lonesome!"

The well-corseted wife of a Can-King, flanked on one side by her thin,
leather-skinned, neat daughter, and on the other by the