The bag fell at Daniel’s feet. He therefore stooped down, and, picking it up, returned it to her.
“A silly boy—that one,” she smiled. “He like always the rag.”
“I nearly shot him for a thief,” said Daniel, placing his hand significantly upon his hip-pocket, where he still carried the revolver which had accompanied him on his journey.
The girl fixed her large dark eyes upon him in amazement. “Mais non!” she exclaimed. “He has the red hair: he like joking and running about.”
She sat herself down beside him, and made a pretence to touch his hip-pocket.
“Why you carry a pistol?” she asked.
Daniel looked at her with mild amusement. Her profession was evident, but it did not shock him.
“Because I’m a wild man,” he answered, with a smile.
“You not live in Cairo?” she queried.
“No fear!” he replied.