“That was how he was called.”
“Tell me all about him. Where did he go? Had he any sons? Tell me, I am all impatience.”
“I see you are; but you must eat.”
This houri of the caves—a strange child of the desert—pushed aside the lid of another sarcophagus and took therefrom a piece of confection known as Turkish delight.
She offered it to Max, but he turned away.
Girzilla bit off a large piece and sat chewing it with all the ardor with which a Kentucky girl chews gum.
“Good!” she said, as she helped herself to another bite.
Approaching close to Max she held the confection close to his mouth, and he was tempted to take a small piece.
It was so appetizing that he asked for more.
When the gum candy was all eaten Girzilla found some bread—cakes baked in the sun, not in an oven—and some fruit, but what kind it was Max did not know.