The train, a mile long, wound out in the blinding sunlight over the sandhill to the city of the dead, from which at its approach the kites and crows went up, affrighted. There ensued a period of forced inaction, which to Barakah in the haremlik at the mausoleum seemed interminable. The ceaseless chanting in the tomb, the wailing of the crowd outside, attacked her nerves. Muhammad was to leave again that evening, and every minute she was parted from him seemed an hour. He was kept upon the men’s side of the tomb; nor would she see him till they reached the house again; she had first to drive home in the stuffy carriage with Na’imah and two of the late Pasha’s daughters. It was maddening.

In fact, she saw him only for a moment, ere he ran to catch his train. She wept a little at the disappointment, but his visit had relieved her of a weight of sorrow. She had only to dispatch a telegram and he would come again. Moreover, she was now quite certain he was not in danger.