“To the woman you are keeping, even now, in your harem. It is a matter of public scandal, and I am surprised that society has not already ostracized you for your audacious defiance of propriety. You are neither an Arab nor a Mohammedan. Doubtless the offense has not yet come to Miss Consinor’s ears; but if it does, have you any idea she would place her happiness in the hands of a man of your character?”
Kāra frowned. Here was a weapon against him that he had never before recognized.
“I suppose you will take pains to inform Miss Consinor that I have a slave-girl among my servants,” he said, mockingly.
“I shall ask Mrs. Everingham to tell her the truth concerning your domestic relations,” returned Winston, decidedly.
“I think it will be as well to end this interview, Winston Bey,” he said. “You are yourself a pretender for the hand of my future bride, and it is useless to endeavor to fairly discuss matters wherein you are so selfishly concerned.”
“Do you choose to defy my warnings?” asked Winston, angrily.
“By no means. I merely ignore your implied threats. They can in no way interfere with my plans.”
“I believe,” said Winston, striving to control his indignation, “that those plans are inspired by hatred rather than love. I shall do my best to oppose them.”
“Naturally. It is your privilege, sir.”