"You fool!" she said.
She moved a step nearer to him.
"You fool!" she repeated. "It's true!"
She snatched up the gilded box from the table. He tore it out of her hands.
"Who—who—?" he whispered, with lips that had gone white.
"Mahmoud Baroudi," she said.
The box fell from his hands to the terrace, scattering the aids to her beauty, which he had always hated.
She turned, pulled her cloak closely round her, and hurried to the bank of the Nile.
"Ibrahim! Ibrahim!"
"My lady!"