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Your Antoun Effendi is a very good guide, and I am not sorry that we have him except once in a while. And now and then I'm glad. We're proud of his looks when we go about, for every one stares at him and envies us for having him to take us about, instead of being condemned to a mere dragoman. It is pathetic.
But if the rescuers were refused admission, the Consul must be entreated to give active help. I, as a "diplomat," was considered a suitable person to deal with this side of the affair; and Antoun Effendi was to keep unobtrusive guard within sight of Rechid's house until Brigit and Monny, with or without a companion, should come forth safely. As I said, however, the difficulty was Mrs. East.
"When you wanted to show the letter, I said yes, but " Monny listened no longer. Her eyes were sparkling, as they looked straight into mine. "Antoun Effendi!" she repeated. "Tell me first because, you know, you are his friend what would he think about a case like this? Whatever he is, he's not a Mussulman, I'm sure. Still, he's not one of us " "You're sure he's not a Mussulman?" I echoed.
Their hair was in disorder, a rope of Biddy's falling over one shoulder, a shining braid of Monny's hanging down her back. Monny seemed to be more or less in the arms of Antoun, but only vaguely and by accident. Dimly I gathered that she had stumbled, and he had saved her from falling. Biddy was fastening up the front of her gray chiffon blouse, which was open, and torn.
In her dress of softly folding silver cloth she was a tall white lily. She wore no jewels except a string of pearls, and there was no colour about her anywhere, except the deep violet her hazel eyes took on at night, and the brown-gold of her hair. Even her lips were pale as they had been when Antoun bade her good-bye. Hers was no gay, dancing mood.
And as Monny remarked, in neat American slang, we were "right up against it." She thought that, if Antoun and I "put our heads together," maybe we could think of "some way out." So we did, almost literally put our heads together across a table no bigger than a handkerchief, in my cabin: and decided that the visit to Rechid Bey's harem must be made by Brigit and Monny in the late afternoon.
Or maybe it's only Monny and Brigit." "Only Monny and Brigit!" In the hope of seeing Antoun, Cleopatra turned her back upon the dreary sanctuary not unwillingly, even though the burning question was left unanswered.
I don't see that It's such a wonderful coincidence his name being 'Antoun. It wouldn't be so bad if he were in love with her; but it's Biddy who is always right in everything she says and does, according to him just as I am always wrong. Aunt Clara is richer than Biddy. I can't bear to fancy that's why he has proposed; it would take away all the romance"
East put me to the dire necessity of sliding off Farag and running to the rescue. The plateau was broken off in front and became a precipice which, Cleopatra seemed to think, would not have existed had "Antoun" arrived in tune to arrange it. Great wind came roaring up again about noon. Feared to learn that it had been impossible to get luncheon-tent in position.
The man is a perfect devil. Not a bad devil, but a wild devil. Mrs. East doesn't tell Monny that Antoun is "Anthony with an h" because she is enjoying the thought that she alone knows the wonderful truth. She imagines that she is in love with him. She believes Fate has brought them together that he is a "reincarnation," as she is, and that they ought to belong to each other. Well, let them!
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