The owner seemed to be very little older than Lucy, and sat gravely looking at her for a little while, then clapped her hands. A black woman came, and the young Turkish maiden said, "Bring coffee for the little Frank lady."
So a tiny table of mother-of-pearl was brought, and on it some exquisite little striped porcelain cups, standing not in saucers, but in silver filigree cups into which they exactly fitted. Lucy remembered her Chinese experience, and did not venture to ask for milk or sugar, but she found that the real Turkish coffee was so pure and delicate that she could bear to drink it without.
"Married! Oh, no, you are joking."
Page 86.
"Where are your jewels?" then asked the little hostess.
"I'm not old enough to have any?"
"How old are you?"
"Nine."
"Nine! I'm only ten, and I shall be married next week——"