Suddenly, clear and ringing came the distant muezzin’s cry: “There is no other god but God!... It is noon. Mussulmans, pray!”
The girl’s arm slipped from his neck and she shuddered and pushed him from her.
There was nothing, now, on the river or beyond it but the curtain of hanging mist; no sound except the cry of a gull, sharp and querulous in the vapours overhead.
“Have—have you been amused?” she asked.
“What did you do to me!” he demanded harshly.
She smiled and drew a light breath like a sigh.
“God knows what we living do to one another,—or to ourselves,” she said. “I only tried to amuse you—after taking counsel with the birds.”
“What was that bridge I saw!”
“The Bridge of Ten Thousand Felicities.”
“And the city?”