“Greeting, daughter,” returned Marufa without lessening the fixity of his gaze.
“I would talk with thee.”
“Aye.”
Again she glanced around furtively.
“I would talk in thine ear, O my father.”
“The knots of my hair are tied.”
“I thank thee. There’s a fluttering bird in my breast.”
“And a snake around thy heart, O my daughter.”
“Aie-e!”
“The grandson of the snake hath tied thy girdle.”