Peer.
[Rising.]
Ay, curse me, I did!
A keen one, but short,—to last two or three days!
Anitra.
Anitra obeyeth the Prophet!—Farewell!
[Gives him a smart cut across the fingers, and dashes off, at a tearing gallop, back across the desert.
Peer.
[Stands for a long time thunderstruck.]
Well now, may I be——!