"It is a nice tongue; but now I must see her eyes."
"Why her eyes?"
"Because she may have what is called jaundice, I must see if her eye is yellow."
"Perhaps she had better expose the whole face," said the Persian.
"Perhaps she had," I remarked.
And the poor little lady, whose nerves were now less excited, slowly unwound the folds of muslin from around her head. She was certainly pretty, and had very regular features, whilst a pair of large black eyes, which looked through me as I gazed on them, were twinkling with an air of humour more than of fear.
She understood Turkish well, as she came from the border, and, looking at me, said something in a low voice.
"She feels better already," said my host. "The sight of you has done her good, when you have given her some medicine, she will doubtless be quite well."
"What is the matter with you?" I said, turning to the patient.
She blushed. Her husband then remarked that she fancied strange dishes at her meals, and in fact was delicate.