'It is not easy to kindle a lamp when the rain is falling heavily,' Zehowah said. 'Your sadness has taken hold of me, like the chill of a fever. I cannot laugh to-night.'
'And yet you have a good cause, for they say that to-night the earth is to be delivered of a great malefactor, a certain Persian, whose name is perhaps Hassan, a notorious robber.'
Khaled turned away his head, smiling bitterly, for he desired not to see the satisfaction which would come into her face.
'This is a poor jest,' she answered in a low voice, and the barbat rolled from her knees to the carpet beside her.
'I mean no jesting, for I do not desire to disappoint you, since you will naturally be glad to be freed from me. But I am glad if you are willing to sing to me, for this night is very long.'
'Do you think that I believe this of you?' asked Zehowah, after some time.
'You believed it yesterday, you believe it to-day, and you will believe it to-morrow when you are free to make choice of some other man—whom you will doubtless love.'
'Yet I know that it is not true,' she said suddenly.
'It is too late,' Khaled answered. 'The more I love you, the more I see how little faith you have in me—and the less faith can I put in you. Will you sing to me again?'
'This is very cruel and bitter.' Zehowah sighed and looked at him.