“You are wasting my time, old man. Unless you show me at once the English maiden I will depart.”
The trader made a gesture of resignation.
“Come!” he said.
The visitor followed him until they paused before the divan on which sat the girl who had attracted so much attention and admiration.
“Behold her!” said Bilmah.
The girl glanced up shyly over her outspread fan, giving the Turk a sidelong glance from her fine, black eyes, in the depths of which there was a strange light that fascinated him.
Hafsa Pasha bowed very low, his hand on his heart.
“So this is the one whose charms I heard extolled ere I crossed the threshold of this house?” he said. “You are English, they tell me. It is most astonishing to find an English girl here.”
“I suppose it is,” she answered, in a very low voice that was full of strange music and gave him a decided thrill.
He sat on the floor at her feet, rolling a cigarette.