"It was ten years ago," said Suleima, "or perhaps twelve. I do not very well know."
"Can you remember anything about it?"
Suleima shook her head wearily.
"I do not know; I was so young. And I am so tired, father. Let me sleep a little, and when I wake up I will think and tell you all I know. You have been very kind to me."
And she dozed off and slept without moving for near an hour, with Andréa sitting by her. Then she stirred in her sleep, and without opening her eyes shifted her head so that it rested on his knee, and so slept again.
At last she woke, and seeing him above her, sat up.
"Has Mitsos come?" she asked. "Will he come soon? I have slept so well," and she smiled at him like a child for no reason except that she smiled.
"You were asking me—" she said, at length.
"Yes, yes," said Andréa.
"It is so little I remember," she said; "I was so young. But it was near Athens somewhere, and on a journey with my father, that I was carried off to the house of Abdul Achmet."