Khôjee scarce knew whether to be flustered or flattered beneath her domino.
'And be speedy,' she said haughtily. 'I have no time to spare thee.'
'Lo! Nawâbin,' he jeered, 'I have them; such cardamoms as----' He was rummaging in the heterogeneous mass piled up against the back wall of his shop. 'Wait but a moment. I have them--I have them. But two days ago, my princess, I had them.'
Here, by chance, an unwary pull sent a pile of parcels and bundles in confusion round him, and one rolled nigh to Aunt Khôjee, who--careful ever--laid a hold of it to save a possible fall into the gutter. The light fell on something green and sheeny, her fingers recognised the feel of satin, and, the bundle having unrolled itself somewhat, she caught sight of the unmistakable cut of a trouser leg! She opened it out a little curiously.
'Canst not leave things alone?' snapped the shopkeeper angrily. 'Those be not cardamoms.'
'They be something I may need for all that,' retorted Khôjee with spirit--the spirit which never fails a woman in the struggle for chiffons. So there she was, testing the satin with her finger, appraising the make. If they had only been pink!--though that was but a detail, since they were beyond her purse; the satin better by far than the much-to-be-regretted pink-the whole newer--
She wrinkled them aside with a sigh. 'Give me the cardamoms, brother. I have not the money for these.' The man looked at her cunningly.
'If the Daughter of Kings needs trousers, she will find none cheaper.'
'They would yet be too dear for me, brother,' she answered mildly; 'the cardamoms will do.'--
He edged nearer, his evil face growing confidential. 'Lo! Bhagsu never drives a hard bargain with the noble,' he cringed. 'It might be that the virtuous lady's money would purchase these, and save them from the badness of bazaars; since they come from virtue and should go to virtue. How much hath the princess to offer?'