“Surely this would inspire William with the desire to be the father of the thirteenth tribe!”

But how could she manage to get him to be present at such abominable orgies?  For she could not hide from herself that it was an abominable exhibition, and she knew how scandalized he would be at their voluptuous movements.  She had no doubt that the devil had led her there, but she could not take her eyes off the scene, and it gave her an idea; and so for nearly a fortnight you might have seen the poor, unattractive woman sitting, and attentively and curiously watching the swaying hips of the Algerian women.  She was learning.

The very evening of her return to London, she rushed into her husband’s bedroom, disrobed herself in an instant, except for a thin gauze covering, and for the first time in her life appeared before him in all the ugliness of her semi-nudity.

“Come, come,” the saintly man stammered out, “are you—­are you mad, Anna!  What demon has possessed you?  Why inflict the disgrace of such a spectacle on me?”

But she did not listen to him, and did not reply, but suddenly she also began to sway her hips about like an almah[10].  The reverend gentleman could not believe his eyes, and in his stupefaction, he did not think of covering them with his hands or even of shutting them.  He looked at her, stupefied and dumbfounded, a prey to the hypnotism of ugliness.  He watched her as she came forward and retired, and went up and down, as she skipped and wriggled, and threw herself into extraordinary attitudes.  For a long time he sat motionless and almost unable to speak.  He only said in a low voice: 

[Footnote 10:  Egyptian dancing girl.—­TRANSLATOR.]

“Oh, Lord!  To think that twelve times!... twelve times!... a whole dozen!”

However, she fell into a chair, panting and worn out, and said to herself: 

“Thank Heaven!  William looks like he used to do formerly on the days that he honored me.  Thank Heaven!  There will be a thirteenth tribe, and then a fresh series of tribes, for William is very methodical in all that he does!”

But William merely took a blanket off the bed and threw it over her, saying in a voice of thunder: 

“Your name is no longer Anna, Mrs. Greenfield; for the future you shall be called Jezabel.  I only regret that I have twelve times mingled my blood with your impure blood.”  And then, seized by pity, he added:  “If you were only in a state of inebriety, of intoxication, I could excuse you.”

“Well, yes, yes!” she exclaimed, repentantly, “yes, I am in that state ...  Forgive me, William—­forgive a poor drunken woman!”

“I will forgive you, Anna,” he replied, and he gave her a wash-hand basin, saying:  “Cold water will do you good, and when your head is clear, remember the lesson which you must learn from this occurrence.”

“What lesson?” she asked, humbly.

“That people ought never to depart from their usual habits.”