He swayed gently and
rhythmically to and fro. Then once more the voice of the drowsy bee
hummed in the shadows. The worshipper and the Prophet stood before the
feet of Allah.
And the woman--she was set afar off, as woman is by white-robed men in
Africa.
"Now, Batouch, you can carry the perfume to the hotel and I will go to
that garden."
"Alone? Madame will never find it."
"I can ask the way."
"Impossible! I will escort Madame to the gate. There I will wait
for her. Monsieur the Count does not permit the Arabs to enter with
strangers."
"Very well," Domini said.
The seller of perfumes had led her towards a dream. She was not
combative, and she would be alone in the garden. As they walked towards
it in the sun, through narrow ways where idle Arabs lounged with happy
aimlessness, Batouch talked of Count Anteoni, the owner of the garden.
Evidently the Count was the great personage of Beni-Mora. Batouch spoke
of him with a convinced respect, describing him as fabulously rich,
fabulously generous to the Arabs.
"He never gives to the French, Madame, but when he is here each Friday,
upon our Sabbath, he comes to the gate with a bag of money in his hand,
and he gives five franc pieces to every Arab who is there.
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