Our life in Shaykh Hamid's house was quiet, but not disagreeable. I never once set eyes upon the face of woman, unless the African slave girls be allowed the title. Even these at first attempted to draw their ragged veils over their sable charms, and would not answer the simplest question; by degrees they allowed me to see them, and they ventured their voices to reply to me; still they never threw off a certain appearance of shame.[FN#20] [p.298] I never saw, nor even heard, the youthful mistress of the household, who stayed all day in the upper rooms. The old lady, Hamid's mother, would stand upon the stairs, and converse aloud with her son, and, when few people were about the house, with me. She never, however, as afterwards happened to an ancient dame at Meccah, came and sat by my side. When lying during mid-day in the gallery, I often saw parties of women mount the stairs to the Gynaeconitis, and sometimes an individual would stand to shake a muffled hand[FN#21] with Hamid, to gossip awhile, and to put some questions concerning absent friends; but they were most decorously wrapped up, nor did they ever deign to deroger, even by exposing an inch of cheek. At dawn we arose, washed, prayed, and broke our fast[FN#22] upon a crust of stale bread, before smoking a pipe, and drinking a cup of coffee.[FN#23] Then it was time to dress, to mount, and to visit the Harim or one of the Holy Places outside the city. Returning before the sun became intolerable, we sat together, and with conversation, Shishas and Chibuks,[FN#24] coffee, and cold water perfumed with mastich-smoke,[FN#25] we whiled away the time till our [p.299] "Ariston," a dinner which appeared at the primitive hour of 11 A.M. The meal, here called Al-Ghada, was served in the Majlis on a large copper tray, sent from the upper apartments. Ejaculating "Bismillah"-the Moslem "grace"-we all sat round it, and dipped equal hands in the dishes set before us. We had usually unleavened bread, different kinds of meat and vegetable stews; and, at the end of the first course, plain boiled rice eaten with spoons; then came the fruits, fresh dates, grapes, and pomegranates. After dinner I used invariably to find some excuse-such as the habit of a "Kaylulah[FN#26]" (mid-day siesta) or the being a "Saudawi[FN#27]"-a person of melancholy temperament-to have a rug spread in the dark passage behind [p.300] the Majlis; and there to lie reading, dozing, smoking, or writing, en cachette, in complete deshabille, all through the worst part of the day, from noon to sunset.