“I am sure you behaved oddly enough among these foreigners,” said Nebenchiari smiling, “you must have made them laugh at you, for the Persians are generally very polite, well-behaved people. Try them again, only once. I shall be very glad to take you in this evening, but I can’t possibly do it before.”
“It is as I thought! He’s altered too, like everybody else! Osiris is dead and Seth rules the world again.”
“Farewell! When the seven stars rise, our old Ethiopian slave, Nebununf, will wait for you here.”
“Nebununf, that old rogue? I never want to see him again.”
“Yes, the very same.”
“Him—well it’s a good thing, when people stay as they were. To be sure I know some people who can’t say so much of themselves, and who instead of minding their own business, pretend to heal inward diseases, and when a faithful old servant...”
“Hold your tongue, and wait patiently till evening.” These last words were spoken seriously, and produced the desired impression. The old man made another obeisance, and before his master left him, said: “I came here under the protection of Phanes, the former commander of the Greek mercenaries. He wishes very much to speak with you.”
“That is his concern. He can come to me.”
“You never leave that sick girl, whose eyes are as sound as...”
“Hib!”