“You don’t mean a real Turk?” I cried.
“Why, yes.”
“But you seemed so friendly with him!”
“Why not? I like him first rate.”
“How can you be friends with a Turk?”
“He’s an awfully good fellow.”
“But ought we to like them, and treat them as if they were our equals?”
“Well, what can we do, sister? They are the masters here, and we belong to the Turkish officialdom. We have got to be friendly with them.”
“But we ought to hate them just the same, since we must kill them. Wouldn’t you kill him, if you could?”
“I don’t think I hate Arif Bey—and as for killing him, I hope I shall never have to.”