“To see the village.”
Batouch shot a glance at Hadj and smiled unpleasantly.
“I will come with Madame.”
Batouch still smiled.
“We are going to the Ouled Nails,” he said significantly to Hadj.
“I—I will come.”
They set out. Suzanne looked gently at the poet’s legs and seemed comforted.
“Take great care of Mademoiselle Suzanne,” Domini said to the poet. “She is a little nervous in the dark.”
“Mademoiselle Suzanne is like the first day after the fast of Ramadan,” replied the poet, majestically. “No one would harm her were she to wander alone to Tombouctou.”
The prospect drew from Suzanne a startled gulp. Batouch placed himself tenderly at her side and they set out, Domini walking behind with Hadj.