"Take this poor bauble," he said.
Toomuch Koffi in return took from his wrist a solid bangle of beaten gold.
"Accept this mean gift from your humble servant," he said.
"Right!" said Abdul, speaking in a changed voice as the ceremonies ended. "Now, then, Toomuch, what is it? Hurry up. Be quick. What is the matter?"
Toomuch rose to his feet, lifted his hands high in the air with the palms facing the Sultan.
"One is without," he said.
"Without what?" I asked eagerly of the Sultan.
"Without—outside. Don't you understand Turkish? What you call in English—a gentleman to see me."
"And did he make all that fuss and delay over that?" I asked in disgust. "Why with us in Canada, at one of the public departments of Ottawa, all that one would have to do would be simply to send in a card, get it certified, then simply wait in an anteroom, simply read a newspaper, send in another card, wait a little, then simply send in a third card, and then simply—"
"Pshaw!" said Abdul. "The cards might be poisoned. Our system is best. Speak on, Toomuch. Who is without? Is it perchance a messenger from Smith Pasha, Minister under Heaven of the United States?"