By and by Yûsuf came into the room. She could tell by his hard breathing he was still enraged. Afraid that he was going to beat her, she lay quiet, as though still unconscious; but in a little while a sob betrayed her. Then his wrath descended. French deserting him, he raved at her in Arabic and Turkish; and her inability to catch his meaning made him angrier. She lay in terror, crying bitterly, replying to such questions as she understood, until his fury sank to lamentation and his French returned.

“My honour!” was his cry. “You have betrayed my honour in thus going forth alone. The servants of the English house who know you will send a whisper and a laugh through all the markets. And those who saw you walking in the dust!⁠ ⁠… Have you no shame, no delicacy? What will my father say? The news will kill him! You have killed my father!”