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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Garden of Allah"


"Yes, take me in here," she said.
Batouch laughed softly, and Hadj uttered a word below his breath.
"Madame will see Irena here," said Batouch, pushing the watching Arabs
unceremoniously away.
Domini did not answer. Her eyes were fixed on a man who was sitting in a
corner far up the room, bending forward and staring intently at a woman
who was in the act of stepping down from a raised platform decorated
with lamps and small bunches of flowers in earthen pots.
"I wish to sit quite near the door," she whispered to Batouch as they
went in.
"But it is much better--"
"Do what I tell you," she said. "The left side of the room."
Hadj looked a little happier. Suzanne was clinging to his arm. He smiled
at her with something of mischief, but he took care, when a place was
cleared on a bench for their party, to sit down at the end next the
door, and he cast an anxious glance towards the platform where the
dancing-girls attached to the cafe sat in a row, hunched up against the
bare wall, waiting their turn to perform. Then suddenly he shook his
head, tucked in his chin and laughed. His whole face was transformed
from craven fear to vivacious rascality.


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