"I've given up Mohammed," she said.
He looked surprised.
"Have you? What's he done?"
"Nothing specially. But I prefer Hamza."
"The praying donkey-boy!"
"Yes."
She paused; then, looking away from him, she said slowly:
"There's something strange to me and interesting about him. I think it comes, perhaps, from his intense belief in his religion, his intense devotion to the Moslem's faith. I—I can't help admiring that, and I should like to take Hamza with us. He's so different from all the others."
Then, with a changed and lighter tone, she added:
"Besides, his donkey is the best on the river. It comes from Syria, and is a perfect marvel. Give me Hamza, his donkey, and Ibrahim as my suite, and you shall never hear a complaint from me, I promise you."