“The harem of my grandfather, Muhammad Pasha Sâlih, depute me to request that thou wilt honour us this day and every day with thy most gracious presence, O my mother.”

Before the termination of this speech and ceremony, Barakah was lying on her face in tears. She had thought, through the long hours of deprivation, that they were teaching her own child to disregard, if not to hate her. The relief was great. Murjânah sat beside her and caressed her, while Muhammad, standing reverently, looked concerned.