"I salute you, Sitta Nefysseh, widow of Mourad Bey!"
"I do not return your salutation. I have been conducted here from my house in an insulting manner, and I am now surprised to find that his highness seems only to have had me brought here in order to salute me."
"I did not call you in order to salute you, but for an entirely different purpose," replied Cousrouf. "Seat yourself on the ottoman beside me, and let us converse."
"Converse, highness? Friends and confidants sit down to converse with each other, but unfortunately we are neither," replied she, composedly, as she seated herself on the ottoman with the dignity of a princess. Cousrouf remaining standing, Sitta Nefysseh raised her hand and pointed to the divan. "To the viceroy belongs the seat of honor. I beg your highness to take that seat."
He bowed slightly, and took the seat assigned him.
"I wished to beg Sitta Nefysseh's permission to seat myself at her side,to converse with her as a friend. You do not desire it, however—you wish to see in me the prince only. Let it be so. I am only the viceroy, and I have summoned you to appear before me."
"Summoned, you call it?" cried she, passionately. "I call it being dragged here in a disgraceful manner!"
"Compose yourself, Sitta Nefysseh; let us converse calmly. I have grave reproaches to make."
"Against me?" asked she, in astonishment.
"Yes, serious, grave reproaches! You are of the opinion, are you not, that every mistress is responsible for the actions of her servants?"