Egypt, Arabia pass before your eyes. The impatient cursing of the camel men comes to your ears. Your nostrils quiver in the acrid smoke of the little fires of dung that flare in the darkness when the caravan halts. The night has shut off prying eyes. Yashmaks are lowered. White flesh gleams against burnished bands of gold. The children of Allah are at home.
And the promise he had given her?...let Joan Conquest, who knows and loves the East, tell you in
DESERT LOVE
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"I have owned a hundred women!" he answered defiantly.