The camel seemed to stumble and Tony grabbed. They were suddenly upright again, and his arm was firmly around her and she made no protest.
“I don’t disapprove of you especially,” she said with some primness, “but all men are alike.”
“The observation is remarkably original,” he told her. “I suppose you are also prepared to tell me that I do not respect you?”
She turned her head. Her lips were close to his ear. She whispered fiercely:
“The camel is a djinn! It’s listening!”
“True,” said Tony. “Damn! No privacy even here!”
He stared gloomily out at the moonlit foothills which now had arisen from the desert and seemed to lead on through deeply shadowed moonlight toward mountains which also were alternately shadowed and shining ahead. He suddenly felt a soft hand groping for his. It pressed his fingers meaningfully. He squeezed back, encouraged beyond expectation. But the hand was snatched away.
Soft warm breath on his neck. A furious whisper in his ear:
“I wanted to tell you something! Here is lasf. In tiny glass phials you can break in case of need. Then no djinn will come near you. It is for your protection!”
Tony put out his hand again. One very small smooth glass object, the size of his thumb or smaller. He put it away. He reached again. Another. A third. He put them in separate pockets to avoid the danger of breaking them against each other. He put his lips to her ear.