"I can afford to pay for hired dancers, so why should I posture for the benefit of others?" he asked scornfully.
She tittered.
"Well, get me another drink instead, then."
He beckoned a waiter and gave a curt order. However, he did not touch the cheap champagne himself. Instead, he kept strictly to coffee.
"Have a drop of cognac in it to cheer you up a bit," Marie said. "You make me feel as if I were at a funeral."
"I'm a Mohammedan, and strong drink is forbidden."
"You are the limit! I shouldn't quarrel with the good things of this life even if I were a Mohammedan."
"By my religion women have no souls," he replied in a voice that spoke volumes.
But Marie was not easily abashed.
"The lack of a soul doesn't trouble me in the least," she responded lightly. "A pretty body is of greater use to a woman any day. Do you think I'm pretty, Casim?" she finished coquettishly.