She looked at her watch and started up.
"It's horribly late. Where is Ibrahim?"
Ibrahim's smiling face was seen at the window.
"The donkey, Ibrahim! I want the donkey at once!"
"All what you want you must have."
He nodded his head, as if agreeing passively with himself, and looked on the ground.
"Hamza he ready. Hamza very good donkey-boy."
"That's right. I am coming," she said.
Ibrahim saluted, still smiling, and disappeared. Mrs. Armine walked to the window and looked out.
It was already the time of sunset, and the unearthly radiance of the magical hour in this land of atmospheric magic began to fall upon the little isolated house, upon the great garden of oranges by which it was encircled. The dry earth of the alleys glowed gently; the narrow trunks of the trees became delicately mysterious; the leaves and the treasure they guarded seemed, in their perfect stillness, to be full of secret promises. Still the birds that dwelled among them were singing to each other softly the praises of God.