“You see, Kāra,” he began, “I bought the girl first, and paid good money for her when I was desperately poor—a fact that deserves some consideration; yet you forced me to sell her.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes, for an insignificant roll of papyrus. I don’t complain, having accepted the bargain; but you mustn’t blame me for all that has happened. By the beard of Osiris! is a man’s heart to be bought and sold like a woman’s body? It is absurd.”
He paused, shifting from one foot to the other. Then he lifted his eyes, and was pained to find Kāra staring at him fixedly.
“There should be no quarrel between us,” he continued, striving to speak confidently. “I have been your jackal, and did your dirty work for a fair amount of pay. What then? To ruin me will cause your own downfall. You dare not do it. But I am honest with you, and a good servant. You need not fear me in the future, for I will promise you on my word to avoid your harem—the word of Tadros the dragoman!”
As he spoke, a shrill scream reached their ears. Tadros bounded to the window, and through the lattice saw Ebbek pushing the unhappy Nephthys into a carriage. He turned a frowning face toward his master.
“What are you doing to the girl?” he demanded, fiercely.
“Sending her back to Sĕra.”
The dragoman uttered a curse and made for the door.
“Come here!” cried Kāra, sternly.