"But, man, the wound's alive. Why didn't you have it dressed?"
"It was written that the wound should be as it is."
"Rot. You stay here another ten minutes or so till I get the tackle, and then I will clean it out for you."
"Effendi, it is written that Allah sent the things that are in the wound, and with due submission I will not have them touched."
"Hum," said Carter, "now this requires argument. You savvy Constantinople? I mean I'Stamboul?"
"There lives the Kaleef, the chief of the Faithful of Islam."
"You've got it in once. Now, are you keeping yourself posted in the Sultan's—that is the Kaleef's latest readings of the Koran? You are not. I can see you have let yourself get thoroughly behind the times. What's your name?"
"Ali ben Hossein."
"Well, Ali, I know what's the matter with you spiritually. You've been thinking too much of the things of this life—fighting, trading and so on. You've spread your mat and faced Mecca, and said your daily prayer in a formal sort of way, but you've been neglecting the moolah. You have been lax in your attendance at mosque, and for a fiver you aren't half the man at the Koran you used to be."
"The Effendi is very wise."