After this Khaled never called Almasta to sit at his feet and sing to him, as he had done before, and Zehowah was constantly with him in her stead. At first Almasta supposed that Khaled only made a pretence of disregarding her, out of respect for his wife, but she soon perceived that he was indifferent and no longer noticed her. She then grew fierce and jealous, and her voice was not heard singing in the harem; but she went and took her needle again from the crevice in the pavement and hid it in her hair, and though Zehowah often called her, when Khaled was not in the house, she made as though she understood even less of the Arabic language than before and sat stupidly on the carpet, gazing at her hands. Zehowah wearied of her silence, for she understood the reason of it well enough. 'I am tired of this woman,' she said to Khaled. 'Do you think I am jealous of her now?' Khaled smiled a little, but said nothing, only shaking his head. 'I am tired of her,' Zehowah repeated. 'She sits before me like a sack of barley in a grainseller's shop, neither moving nor speaking.' 'She is yours,' Khaled answered. 'Send her away. Or we will give her in marriage to one of the sheikhs who will take her away to the desert. In this way she will not be able even to visit you except when her husband comes into the city.' But they decided nothing at that time. Some days later Khaled was sitting alone upon a balcony, Zehowah having gone to the bath, when Almasta came suddenly before him and threw herself at his feet, beating her forehead and tearing her hair, though not indeed in a way to injure it. 'What have I done?' she cried. 'Why is my lord displeased?' Khaled looked at her in surprise, but answered nothing at first. 'Why are my lord's eyes like frozen pools by the Kura, and why is his forehead like Kasbek in a mist?' Khaled laughed a little at her words. 'Kasbek is far from Riad,' he answered, 'and the waters of the Kura do not irrigate the Red Desert. I am not displeased. On the contrary, I will give you a husband and a sufficient dowry. Go in peace.' But Almasta remained where she was, weeping and beating her forehead. 'Let me stay!' she cried. 'Let me stay, for I love you. I will eat the dust under your feet. Only let me stay.' 'I think not,' Khaled answered. 'You weary Zehowah with your silence and your sullenness.' 'Let me stay!' she repeated, over and over again. She was not making any pretence of grief, for the tears ran down abundantly and stained the red leather of Khaled's shoes. Though he was hard-hearted he was not altogether cruel, for a man who loves one woman greatly is somewhat softened towards all such as do not stand immediately in his way. 'It is true,' he thought, 'that I have given this woman some occasion of hope, for I have treated her kindly during many days, and she has probably supposed that I would marry her. For she is less keen-sighted than Zehowah, and moreover she loves me.'