And Zulannah, understanding that she must not overstep the limit if she desired to attain her end, flung the whip full into the stolid, indifferent face, and fled, raving obscenities, into the house.
CHAPTER VIII
"If God in His wisdom have brought close
The day when I must die,
That day by water or fire or air
My feet shall fall in the destined snare
Wherever my road may lie."
DANTE GABRIEL ROSETTI
"May I come in? Oh, Maris, what do you think? There is to be a real native fortune-teller in the Winter Garden. They've made the corner near the fountain like an Arab's tent, and he'll tell us our horoscopes in the sand, and all sorts of things."
"Not forgetting the stars, let us hope?"
"Oh, there's sure to be that."
Damaris laughed as she turned in her chair and looked at the excited little visitor in fancy-dress.
"You do look sweet. A Light of the Harem, for certain."
"Yes; and what do you think? There are three dozen Lights. Isn't it a shame? I thought I should be the only one. And there are two and a half dozen Sheikhs, and I don't know how many dozen Bedouins. You are—what are you? You look awfully—awfully—er—I don't quite know what."