Barakah was deeply hurt. To have her harmless pleasures so severely criticized was as cruel as to see a flower destroyed by hail. She could not take the lofty standpoint of the Turkish lady. Had she done so, viewing life in all its horror, she would have gone mad. How could she bear to look upon herself, the renegade? She was now glad that she was soon to leave that hateful house.

When she told Umm ed-Dahak of her grief, expecting sympathy, the latter smiled and said:

“The right is with her. We must not neglect the things divine. I will myself instruct thee in them, having some small learning. Inshallah, I will teach thee to endure those thoughts which now appal thee.”

Instruction of that kind was needed two days later, when Barakah was driven to her new abode. As she alighted from her carriage at the door, some men in waiting cut the throat of a live buffalo by way of compliment. Blood spurted in her path across the threshold.