“Art thou dazzled?” she asked, smiling for the first time.
“Indeed I am, O Queen,” I replied. “The magnificence of thy city, the splendour of this thy palace, and the beauty of thy face entranceth me. Of a verity thine is a world apart, and thou art goddess and queen in one.”
She fixed her clear, wonderful eyes upon me, and her breast, covered with jewels, slowly heaved and fell. In her gaze I noticed, for the first time, a curious expression, and her manner was undisguisedly coquettish.
“Then, why dost thou desire to leave our land of Ea? Why not remain here in happiness and contentment?” she asked, raising her pencilled brows, and toying with the long, gold pendant hanging from her ear.
“Because,” I answered, frankly, “because I am pledged to a woman who loveth me.”
“Who loveth thee!” she cried, fiercely. “Who is the woman?”
“Azala, daughter of the Sultan ’Othman, of Sokoto,” I answered.
She was silent for a long time. Her white, well-formed hands twitched nervously.
“Azala,” she repeated slowly, in a hollow voice. “And thou desirest to return because thou lovest her?”
I nodded.