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"Only too late for supper," was the dry answer of the old banker, but the tone was pleasant. Through the hall, where those in waiting stood respectfully as she passed, the banker led her to a small, luxuriously furnished parlor on the ground floor.
The apartments occupied by the women of the family, commonly called the harem, are not visible, but are generally spacious and well furnished, even luxuriously appointed, with inlaid floors, decorated walls, and rich rugs.
At evening time Moti Guj would wash down his three hundred pounds' weight of green food with a quart of arrack, and Deesa would take a share and sing songs between Moti Guj's legs till it was time to go to bed. Once a week Deesa led Moti Guj down to the river, and Moti Guj lay on his side luxuriously in the shallows, while Deesa went over him with a coir-swab and a brick.
This space formed the common couch and lounging place of the natives, answering the purpose of a divan in Oriental countries. Here would they slumber through the hours of the night, and recline luxuriously during the greater part of the day. The remainder of the floor presented only the cool shining surfaces of the large stones of which the 'pi-pi' was composed.
Didn't we make a beautiful exhibition of ourselves? all except Dave and this kid, that is." "Kid yourself," said Wally, who was sucking a lemon slowly and luxuriously. "No tea, thanks, Norah. I'm boiling already, and if I took tea I don't know what might happen, but certainly heat apoplexy would be part of it. Have half my lemon?"
She had found relatives, and an opportunity of living luxuriously; but, in the midst of this beautiful bouquet of surprises, a serpent's head peered out at her. Mr. Clifton loved her; not as a teacher his pupil, not as guardian loves ward, not as parent loves child. Perhaps he had not intended that she should know it so soon, but his eyes had betrayed the secret.
He should write to her, however, and she had promised to answer. Perhaps, too, she would come up to Oxford to see her brother. That thought was like the first star, which came out as he rode into Padwick's livery stables in the purlieus of Sloane Square. He got off and stretched himself luxuriously, for he had ridden some twenty-five good miles.
As he spoke a huge, silent car crept swiftly to the entry, which opened to swallow up two bareheaded, luxuriously befurred women, with their escorts. The curious wayfarer promptly amended his query, though not for the better. "Naw!" replied the policeman with scorn. "That's Mr. Banneker's house." "Banneker? Who's Banneker?"
It was with a wildly beating heart that Paul alighted at her door, and as he stood awaiting her in the luxuriously furnished salon which was the centrepiece of her apartments, his knees trembled with agitation. He was there to meet for the first time the woman he loved. That was strange and yet true.
The necessity for this was more mental than physical. Then he relaxed luxuriously. It was then that he resumed his relations with the Leopard Woman, and that they discussed matters of more or less importance to both. The first evening they talked of the wonder of the ivory stockade.
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