British -- Egypt -- Fiction; Egypt -- Fiction; Kidnapping -- Fiction; Love stories
"It is my wish."
"If I were a woman of your own race----" she began bitterly, but he
interrupted her.
"If you were a woman of my own race there would be no question of it,"
he said coldly. "You would be for the eyes of no other man than me. But
since you are not----" He broke off with an enigmatical jerk of the
head.
"Since I am not you are less merciful than if I was," she cried
miserably. "I could wish that I was an Arab woman."
"I doubt it," he said grimly. "The life of an Arab woman would hardly
be to your taste. We teach our women obedience with a whip."
"Why have you changed so since this morning," she whispered, "when you
told me that you trusted no one to climb to my balcony in the hotel but
yourself? Are you not an Arab now as then? Have I become of so little
value to you that you are not even jealous any more?"
"I can trust my friend, and--I do not propose to share you with him,"
he said brutally.
She winced as if he had struck her, and hid her face in her hands with
a low cry.
His fingers gripped her shoulder cruelly. "You will do as I wish?" The
words were a question, but the intonation was a command.
"I have no choice," she murmured faintly.
His hands dropped to his sides and he turned to leave the room, but she
caught his arm. "Monseigneur! Have you no pity? Will you not spare me
this ordeal?"
He made a gesture of refusal. "You exaggerate," he said impatiently,
brushing her hand from his arm.
"If you will be merciful this once----." she pleaded breathlessly, but
he cut her short with a fierce oath. "If?" he echoed. "Do you make
bargains with me? Have you so much yet to learn?"
She looked at him with a little weary sigh. The changing mood that she
had set herself to watch for had come upon him suddenly and found her
unprepared. The gentleness of the morning had vanished and he had
reverted to the tyrannical, arbitrary despot of two months ago. She
knew that it was her own fault. She knew him well enough to know that
he was intolerant of any interference with his wishes. She had learned
the futility of setting her determination against his. There was one
master in his camp, whose orders, however difficult, must be obeyed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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