Round the great room were divans covered with the most costly silks.
And on each divan reposed, in Oriental languor, a beauteous woman.
Each woman had a little table by her side, on which cigarettes and sherbet were placed.
Many of them were smoking the most fragrant tobacco Max had ever sniffed.
He had not been seen, and so he stood watching without the beauteous creatures having any idea that their privacy had been invaded.
But his eyes recognized on one of the divans the girl Lalla.
Why should he not go to her?
He was an American, and knew no fear.
He walked down the center of the room, and instantly there was a shriek—a tiny little scream—and a flutter of a score of beauties.
But no sooner had they screamed than they felt sorry for it, for never before had any man save their lord entered the grand salon of the harem, and the novelty was refreshing.