One evening Yûsuf, thinking to amuse her, had sent her with his sisters and Muhammad to the new opera-house which the Khedive had built to please the European visitors, and also to provide His Highness with relays of mistresses. There, in a harem box behind a screen, she smoked cigarettes and listened to what seemed mere senseless screeching to one who had admired the voice of Tâhir. The opera was Don Giovanni