172 Ashes of Incense

And when she is rested, send to me in the East- ern court: I shall be there.”

“I obey my master,” said the woman, in a curious half-chanting voice.

And Dorofée went with her.

If there was no harem in Barali’s house, at least there were women’s quarters; for two ne- gresses came from an inner room to assist Phaia in obeying the master’s commands. Dorofée Watched them, interestedly, out of her paie long eyes; as swiftly they rifled chests of beautiful stuffs, pulled cob-webby veils from inner hiding- places, unlocked clinking anklets and a wonder- ful chain of uncut emeralds from an old iron box lying carelessly in a corner—she meanwhile eat- ing cake and every variety of sticky sweetmeat. The negresses chattered and picked at each new article, like excited monkeys; but the woman Phaia remained singularly silent. Qnly when they had dressed Dorofée, and anointed her with some strange, cloyant Arab scent; when they had care- fully arranged the haick beneath the pale grey eyes and slipped on the heavy silver anklets, did Phaia finally speak.

“The little rose likes the Arab dress?” she said gently.

“Yes.” Dorofée’s eyes above the veil regarded