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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Garden of Allah"

I
built it to prevent a more hideous one being built, and let it to the
proprietor. You might like to ascend the tower. The view at sundown is
incomparable. At present the hotel is shut, but the guardian will show
you everything if you give him my card."
He pencilled some words in Arabic on the back from right to left.
"You write Arabic, too?" Domini said, watching the forming of the pretty
curves with interest.
"Oh, yes; I am more than half African, though my father was a Sicilian
and my mother a Roman."
He gave her the card, took off his hat and bowed. When the tall white
door was softly shut by Smain, Domini felt rather like a new Eve
expelled from Paradise, without an Adam as a companion in exile.
"Well, Madame?" said Batouch. "Have I spoken the truth?"
"Yes. No European garden can be so beautiful as that. Now I am going
straight home."
She smiled to herself as she said the last word.
Outside the hotel they found Hadj looking ferocious. He exchanged some
words with Batouch, accompanying them with violent gestures. When he had
finished speaking he spat upon the ground.
"What is the matter with him?" Domini asked.


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