At that he sprang up as a man demented and rushed out. No sooner was he gone than she relapsed to weeping, stricken by the curse of utter helplessness which underlay her pitiful pretence at pride. To have been beaten black and blue by Yûsuf would have been less ignominious than to let the Consul know she was unhappy. She had walked into this guarded life with open eyes, aware of the conditions which must thenceforth fetter her existence, boasting love for them. The least complaint, much more retreat, was thus impossible. Even in the heat of anger she had had no real intention to go back. Yûsuf had enraged her, the mob upon the previous day had frightened her exceedingly; but after all they were her chosen people, though so strange. She could never come to hate them as she did the English.

She rose at last with mind to go into another room. The door was locked. Upon her trying it a slave-girl shouted:

“It is forbidden to go out. Does my lady require anything that I can bring her?”