"She was there once."
"You are Bella Donna," he said.
"You had to say that."
"Yes, but it is true. You are Bella Donna, but you are not donna onesta."
She did not resent the remark, which was made with an almost naïve gravity and directness. She was quite sure that Baroudi would never appreciate a woman because she was honest. Again she longed to hint at her notoriety, at the evil reputation she had acquired, which yet was a sort of fame.
"In—in Europe they often call me Bella Donna," she said.
"In Europe?"
"In England—London."
"They are right. I shall call you Bella Donna here, beside the Nile."
He said it negligently, but something in her rejoiced. Nevertheless, she said, she could not help saying: