"I will tell him you asked me for a love-potion for the engine-driver's wife," Jeremy answered.
"I am listening. What is it you are really going to say?"
"That master of yours—that Ramsden, who dismissed you so tyrannically just now—"
"That drunkard? There is nothing interesting to be said about him,"
Jeremy answered. "He is a fool who has paid my fare as far as Damascus.
May Allah reward him for it!"
"Are you telling me the truth?" demanded Yussuf Dakmar, fixing his eyes sternly on Jeremy's.
Your con man never overlooks a chance to put his intended victim on the defensive at an early stage in the proceedings. "How can he have paid your fare as far as Damascus? This line only goes to Haifa, where you have to change trains and buy another ticket."
"I see you are a clever devil," Jeremy retorted. "May Allah give you a belly ache, if that is where you keep your brains! It was I who bought the tickets. The fool gave me sufficient money for three first-class fares all the way to Damascus, and I have the change. He forgot that when he dismissed me."
"Then you won't need to beg board and lodging in Haifa?"
"Oh, yes. I need my money for another matter. It is high time I married, and a fellow without money has to put up with any toothless
that nobody else will take."