Hahmed the Arab stopped short as with a little rustling sound Jill raised herself to her knees, her hair sweeping to the satin cushion, her hands stretched before her face as though to blind her eyes to the word-picture which the man was painting in a perfectly indifferent voice.

“How awful!  How awful!” she whispered.  “Surely, surely you never let them kill her!”

For a moment the Arab sat silent, as he forced his mind to an understanding of the Western outlook upon what to him was so simple a matter.

“But she was unchaste, woman, therefore there was nothing else to do!”

And at the tone of finality in the gentle voice, Jill sat back on her heels and said, “And then?” and listened without interrupting until the tale was done.

“So,” continued Hahmed, “she was taken screaming to a public spot and there buried to her waist, and after that her mother had thrown the first stone, was put to death by men and women who, following the edicts of the Moslem law, meted out death by stoning to the unchaste.  And from that day I fled my country and my home.  East and West I travelled, passing many moons in England, hence it is that I can converse with you in your own language.

“There are many good things in your country and there are some bad, the greatest of the latter, to an Eastern mind, being the freedom of the women, who, even in their youth, go half-naked to the festival, so that all men, yea, even to the slaves who serve at table, may cast their eye of desire upon wife, or wife to be, taking from the husband the privilege of possessing all the beauty of the woman for himself.  Also did I see the women of the West go down to the salt waters to bathe.  Naked were they save for a covering which clung as closely as the skin to a peach, so that if I had had a mind I could have discoursed upon the comeliness of the wife of el Jones, or the poor land belonging to el Smith.  Allah!  I remember well a bride-to-be of seventeen summers, comely in her outer raiment, displaying to her future husband, without hesitation, the poor harvest of which he would shortly be the reaper, for I think that the majority of the women of the West strive not to render themselves beautiful, develop not the portion of the body which maybe lacks contour from birth, bathes not her body in perfumed waters, feeds not her skin with delicious unguents, cares not if her hair reaches in wisps to her shoulders, or falls below her waist as a natural covering under which she may hide at the approach of her master, neither does she daily perfume it, nor her hands, nor her feet, nor any part of her.”

Once again Jill snapped the story thread, but this time with laughter, for her mind’s eye, aided by her companion’s scathing comments, had called up picture after picture of friends and acquaintances who, at balls, theatres, or by the sea, had draped themselves or not according to what they imagined to be their menfolk’s outlook upon life.