“If you will come, I will show you where your cases are. They are quite safe.”
“I want them in my bedroom.”
“But think of the weight! They are too heavy for the floor.”
“If that’s so, I will ask the English Consulate to take charge of them. Will you be good enough to ring them up?”
He darted at me the malevolent glance of a beaten man, and gave some orders in Arabic to a porter.
“I will have my breakfast in my room, if you please, so that I may count the packages.”
He bowed, and we parted.
In spite of the misery that still afflicted my soul, I had a new feeling of self-esteem as I regained my room. I had come well out of this encounter, and felt I could depend on myself in the struggle that must lie before me.
Before I had finished my breakfast Jakoub was shown in, polite as ever.
“You have slept well, effendi? You seem no longer fatigued?”