"And now all you can work up is a mild curiosity for a glimpse through the window, eh?" says I. He shrugs his shoulders careless. "Then, by the great horned spoon," I goes on, "you're goin' to get what you came after! Trail along upstairs after me. This way. In through here. There you are, Pasha! Lindy, here's your Don Carlos!" "Oh!" says she, lookin' up from the shirt-waist she was bastin' a sleeve on, and not even botherin' to take the pins out of her mouth. And maybe they ain't some cross-mated couple too! This Pasha party shows up ponderous and imposin', in spite of the funny little fez arrangement on his head. He's thrown his cloak back, revealin' a regulation frock coat; but under that is some sort of a giddy-tinted silk blouse effect, and the fringed ends of a bright red sash hangs down below his knee on the left side. He's got a color on him like the inside of an old coffeepot, and the heavy, crinkly beard makes him look like some foreign Ambassador. While Lindy--well, in her black sewin' dress and white apron, she looks slimmer and more old maidish than ever. He confines his greetin' to a nod of the head, and stands there gazin' at her as calm as if he was starin' at some stranger in the street. "I suppose you've come to take me away with you, Carlos?" says she. "No," says he. "But I thought," says Lindy, "I--I thought some day you might. I didn't know, though. I haven't planned on it." "Is it your wish to go with me?" says he. "Why, I'm your wife, you know," says she. "You had my letters, did you?" he goes on. "Four," says she. "There was one from Spain, when you were a brigand, and another----" "A brigand!" breaks in Sadie. "Do you mean that, Lindy?" "Wasn't that it?" asks Lindy of him. "For two years, Madam," says Don Carlos, bowin' polite. "A dull sort of business, mingling so much with stupid tourists. Bah! And such small gains! By the time you have divided with the soldiers little is left. So I gave it up." "The next came from that queer place," says Lindy, "Port--Port----" "Port Said," helps out Pasha, "where I had a gambling house. That was good for a time. Rather lively also. We had too much shooting and stabbing, though. It was an English officer, that last one. What a row! In the night I left for Tunisia." "Oh, yes, Tunis," says Lindy. "Something about slaves there, wasn't it?" "Camels also," says Pasha. "I traded in both stolen camels and smuggled slaves." He throws this off as casual as if he was tellin' about sellin' sewin' machines. I glances over to see how Sadie's takin' it, and finds her drawin' in a long breath. "Well, I never!" says she explosive. "What a shameless wretch! And you dared confess all this to Lindy?" "Pardon, Madam," says he, smilin' until he shows most of his white teeth, "but I desired no misunderstanding. It is my way with women, to tell them only what is true. If they dislike that--well, there are many others."