inevitable
Italian marquis, whose tailor had evidently been a sartorial futurist,
pointed to a cushion on the nobleman's off side, on which perplexed
Jill squatted in imitation of the others. The party consisted of the
aforementioned trio, two flash-looking English women, who had in tow a
certain type of man who is only to be found on board ship, an obese
German, a French widow whose weeds grew more from utility than
necessity, and a dapper little Frenchman who twinkled his
over-manicured fingers for the benefit of a healthy, jolly looking
Australian girl sitting uncomfortably on the adjacent cushion. The
party's dragoman proffered a cup of coffee and a cigarette. The former
was excellent, the latter, after one puff, Jill extinguished on the
floor, for she knew tobacco when she smoked it, and guessed at hasheesh
without having to look at the slightly brightened eyes of those who sat
smoking the same brand around her.

Then she glanced curiously round the room. Long, low, with four tawdry
glass and gilt chandeliers hanging from the not over-clean ceiling,
cushions spreading all over the floor excepting in the middle where lay
an exquisite Persian carpet, long mirrors on all sides, little inlaid
tables, and at the far end, built into the wall with steps leading up
to it, a bed behind gilt bars, the door in which was fastened by a gilt
padlock.

It seemed that their dragoman had brought them to the house so as to
add yet more perquisites to his daily remuneration by regaling them
with an exhibition of Eastern dancing.

"What kind of dancing?" asked Jill with a slight frown, as the
twinkling music suddenly stopped.

"Guess we can't tell you!" replied the American mother, whose corsets
were not in exact accord with the cushions upon which she sat,
breathing heavily from her upper whaleboned register.

"_Nous esperons le mieux_," said the Frenchman, winking at the dragoman.

And that moment they were enlightened.

The two English women emitted each a little screech, the American
mother caught convulsively at her daughter, who coldly raised her
long-handled lorgnettes the more fully to survey the picture before
her. The Australian girl sat quiet, as did the Englishman who had been
there before; the Italian ejaculated "_Per dio_," and the Frenchman
"_Mon Dieu_," as the widow, pulling one side of her veil across her
face, hid her over-crimson mouth, but in no way impeded her view,
whilst Jill looked round hastily f