The sobs continued for a minute or two with equal violence, but presently they slackened a little, and Zeynab inquired brokenly, “What kind of thing is it?”
“Something you will like to see,” said Georgia; and Rahah added on her own account as she translated the words: “The doctor lady says so, and the English always tell the truth.”
“Do they?” asked Zeynab, with interest. “I thought they were very bad people.” She had ceased to sob, but was too proud to ask for the sight she had been promised, and Georgia took something out of her bag, and waited. More from habit than from any expectation of making use of it, she had slipped in with her instruments a German toy which she had found very useful in winning the friendship of children in her old hospital days, and which had proved a source of great delight to Nur Jahan and the other women in the Palace at Kubbet-ul-Haj. It was carved in wood, and represented a cock standing on a barrel. The barrel contained a yard-measure, and when the tape was drawn out the bird flapped his wings, faster or slower according to the rapidity of the movement.
“What is it?” inquired Zeynab at last, looking curiously at the cock, her interest stimulated by the doctor’s silence. For answer, Georgia pulled out the tape, and the child gave a shriek of wild delight.
“Wonderful, wonderful!” she cried. “Is it alive?”
Rahah explained that the bird was merely one of the marvels of the white people, and Zeynab, after a somewhat timid approach, ventured to pull the tape for herself. Then she was fairly won, and screamed with pleasure as the cock flapped his wings for her. Not to make the wonder too cheap, Georgia reclaimed it after a short time; but the ice was broken. Zeynab lay back on her cushions and looked at her musingly.
“Art thou really a woman?” she asked at last.
“Yes. What else could I be?” asked Georgia, smiling.
“I thought thou wert perhaps a man,” said the child, shyly; and Georgia felt devoutly thankful that Dick was not there to hear her. “Shall I tell thee why, O doctor lady?” she went on, then turned suddenly to Khadija. “O my nurse, I am thirsty. Bring me some sherbet.”
“One of the slaves shall prepare it for thee, my soul.”