"Allah be praised!" she exclaimed. "I believe that Ayesha is roasting coffee." The thought accelerated her footsteps to such an extent that the rapid sliding of her slippers on the path sounded like the preparatory steps of a jig dancer in the sand box. "Yes, that's from our court, surely. I do hope it's nearly ready to grind. What's so delicious as a cup of fresh coffee and a glass of cold water when one is hot and thirsty?" The aroma certainly proceeded from a garden which the Turkish woman was now approaching, and as she arrived at the massive gate in the high adobe wall the sound of a coffee roaster in motion could plainly be heard within. Souleima gave the boy a penny, whereupon he set up such a loud and voluble protest that she was obliged to give him five paradhes more, with a threat to open the gate and let out an imaginary dog of fearful biting powers if he did not instantly depart. The boy out of the way, Souleima knocked upon the gate and cried. "Ayesha, Ferende! let me in!" "Go open the gate, it's Souleima," said a voice within. "Go yourself. When did I become a door opener?" "Bah! Don't you see I can't leave the coffee? It'll burn." The sound of a rattling chain, and a woman peeped out, holding a black veil over the lower part of her face. Souleima entered, shutting and locking the gate after her. "Whew!" she exclaimed, pulling off her veil with the finger and thumb of the hand that now held the sheaf of lettuce. "It's hot outside. You two ought to be thankful to me, running around in the sun for you, while you sit here in the cool shade." "Very cool it is here by this fire," retorted Ayesha. "It's Ferende who is the lady these days. Never mind, my girl, when Panayota comes to her senses you will have to work like your betters. You're getting fat, too, and Kostakes is tired of fat women. Isn't she getting fat, my Souleima?" The lady appealed to made no reply, but, going over to the water faucet that projected from a marble slab built into one side of the wall, hung the string of fish from the iron cock, laid the lettuce in the stone basin beneath, and turned on a thin stream of cold water. Ayesha and Souleima are about of an age--thirty. They are both fat, dark and greasy, with black eyes and black hair. Their lips are thick and their teeth not too good. Their complexions are muddy and their faces somewhat pimpled. Ferende is a strapping Albanian girl, about Panayota's age, though of coarser build. Like the beautiful Greek who is under lock and key upstairs, she has soft brown hair and brown eyes, set wide apart in her head.