“There is no cause for alarm,” I added.
She stood watching me; even through the coarse veil I could see how her eyes glittered. I stooped and picked up the net.
“Oh!” The whispered word was scarcely audible, but it was enough; I doubted no longer.
“This is a net for bird snaring,” I said. “What strange bird are you seeking—Karamaneh?”
With a passionate gesture Karamaneh snatched off the veil, and with it the ugly black hat. The cloud of wonderful, intractable hair came rumpling about her face, and her glorious eyes blazed out upon me. How beautiful they were, with the dark beauty of an Egyptian night; how often had they looked into mine in dreams!
To labor against a ceaseless yearning for a woman whom one knows, upon evidence that none but a fool might reject, to be worthless—evil; is there any torture to which the soul of man is subject, more pitiless? Yet this was my lot, for what past sins assigned to me I was unable to conjecture; and this was the woman, this lovely slave of a monster, this creature of Dr. Fu-Manchu.
“I suppose you will declare that you do not know me!” I said harshly.
Her lips trembled, but she made no reply.
“It is very convenient to forget, sometimes,” I ran on bitterly, then checked myself; for I knew that my words were prompted by a feckless desire to hear her defense, by a fool’s hope that it might be an acceptable one.
I looked again at the net contrivance in my hand; it had a strong spring fitted to it and a line attached. Quite obviously it was intended for snaring.