“You asked for a private interview. It is a little unusual, I believe, in this country; but I granted your request upon the understanding that you have important secrets to communicate, as stated in your letter. Let me see—ah, here it is!”
The English official—a broad-shouldered, fresh-complexioned man inclined to baldness—having studied her appearance through a monocle, let fall that weapon and, disturbing papers on his desk, produced the letter she had written to him, which looked somehow pitiful.
“I am an English lady. My name is Mary Smith. I did a very wicked thing. I turned Muhammadan, and married a Turkish gentleman, a Pasha, here in Cairo. I want to leave him and return to Christianity. I am an English lady, by name Mary Smith; not what they call me. I am prepared to take my oath that this is true, and Mrs. Cameron can tell you—I must get away!”