'Horrible! For what reason?'
'To prevent their being indiscreet.'
'A wise precaution.'
'So my husband thinks—but a cruel one.'
After a pause, she added, 'Would to Allah that he had left me in the care of his friend, the Moolah Moustapha!'
'Why?'
'Can you ask me? The Moolah is said to know—like Solymon Ebn Daood—the language of the birds; and every kind of secret knowledge; and thus he had watched over the wanderings of my heart.'
'Nay, dearest Iola, these scruples and coquettish regrets come somewhat late—and one kiss—'
'Bismillah! In the name of the most Merciful, touch me not!' she exclaimed, with a coy alarm that was rather chilling; but she was too late: my kiss was on her pouting lip, and she did not repulse me—for she felt assured, by the night and the silence around us, that no ear was there to overhear us, and no mortal eye but mine to see her unveiled beauty.
Here endeth the first lesson.