Jo related her harem experiences, and he told of the attempts of the young Turks in Constantinople to abolish the veil, of how he had assisted at small dinner parties where the ladies had discarded their veils, and of the ferocity with which the priests and leaders had fought and quashed the movement.
One lady had ventured unveiled into the bazaar, and one of the lowest of women had given her a blow on the face. On appealing to a policeman she had received small comfort, as he told her she ought to be ashamed of herself.
As we went home we met women coming home from the fair with unsold carpets. They accosted us and wanted to know why we were writing them in the morning so that they could tell their relatives all about it.
When we reached our bedroom the old innkeeper came in. In dulcet tones she admired our purchases. We were rather stiff.
Suddenly she fell upon Jo's neck saying, "You mustn't be angry with me," and remained there explaining.
When she left, Jo looked gravely at Jan, took a toothcomb, let down her hair, and worked hard for a while.
Next day we went for a long walk. As we were returning a terrific storm burst over us. We had left our mackintoshes in the inn, and were soon wet through. We got back just at supper time, and after, as Jan had no change of clothing, he decided to go to bed in his wet things, heaping blankets and rugs over himself in the hopes of being dry by the morrow.
