"Ah, I should like to hear about her. Will you tell me what she is like?"
"I am afraid I have not your gift of description, Signor Ricordo."
The man with the fez looked at Briarfield steadily out of his half-opened eyes, but not a muscle of his face moved. What he thought, it was impossible to tell, but that he drew his own conclusions was evident.
"I have been told that she is very gifted, very beautiful, very pious," he said.
"You speak our language well," said Briarfield; "but for a slight foreign intonation, I should take you for an Englishman."
"Allah forbid!" he cried, lifting his hands beseechingly.
"You would not like to be an Englishman?"
"If I must be of one country, yes. But I am of no country. If you have a country, you have responsibilities, duties, prejudices."
"And you are without these?"
"Would you have me assume them?"