“Good! You have plenty of money?” said Ajeeb.
“Yes.”
“Good! Should you want more, call upon me.”
“I have enough to live upon in splendor, if I so choose.”
“Now, my child, you can go; and, before many sunsets, I will have recovered that for which I traveled so many miles.”
Ajeeb kissed her lightly on the forehead. It was with a head weighed down with sorrow that Zulima returned to her home.
Soon after her departure from the house in Forty-third Street Ajeeb had another visitor. The latter’s appearance and general make-up pronounced him an Englishman.
“Well, old man!” he cried, upon meeting the Abyssinian priest; “how does the world wag for you, and what are you doing in New York?”
Ajeeb was another man in this person’s presence. Before Zulima and Ashah, he carried a very stern front. Now he unbent his rigid dignity.
“I came here on a very serious mission, friend of long ago!”