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Updated: May 16, 2025
The boy was endeared to his father and to his mother, the idol of both their lives. Mirza Shah would have gladly died, well I knew, for his son. Why then should I interfere? Kismet! Let destiny take its course. Even I, in withholding the truth, had been an instrument in the hand of fate. And had it not been written that I should so act? Who, indeed, but Allah can change the course of events?
He was not a horsey man, but he liked people to believe he had been on once; and he wove fantastic stories of the hunting-bridle to which this particular lip-strap had belonged. Otherwise he was painfully religious. Platte and the Colonel were dressing at the Club both late for their engagements, and both in a hurry. That was Kismet.
Say, I couldn't quit thinkin' what a grand young time I'd start in this old burg if I could only con this Kismet thing into slippin' me my Day of Days. Believe me or not, there would be a party." "What would you do?" asked Molly Lessing, smiling.
He would, logically and according to the joggle, turn out a rip or an angel." It was what he called Kismet. It is one of the tragedies of his life, so sad in many ways, that in the days when the blows of fate fell heaviest upon his head, he had lost all faith in the Christian ideals, all belief in immortality or a personal God.
Others were clutching their Baedeker, and their Amelia Edwards, and their "Kismet," and their note-books, and wore a do-or-die expression of countenance. One or two others floated around aimlessly, with dreamy eyes, as if they were already lost in the past which now pressed so closely at hand.
Circumstances were so harsh that even Martha appeared desirable by contrast. He felt an instinctive longing for rest, and peace, and pecuniary absolution. He was therefore deserving of pity when he finally surrendered to the inevitable. Kismet! General Gamble was reading in a quiet corner of the Club. That is to say, he had the appearance of one reading.
The metropolitan field suited to its best exercise she was, alas! destined never to enter. Kismet. As long as there are readers who care for a novel packed from cover to cover with interesting scenes of a promising flirtation that ripens into enthusiastic love-making by which three persons are in turn made miserable, so long such books as Kismet will be liked.
Whose chauffer is he now, and is he still a chauffer, or has the wheel of fortune turned and made him Commissary of Arts, or Commissary of Public Health? Or, true to his master, was he hanged defending my automobile? Kismet!... There were only two blocks to the L. but the snow was so deep and it was so windy and cold, it seemed to me a good mile, till I reached the house. It was dark as usual.
The great game of luck was gathering faster and faster. We loafed about on deck and wondered where we were going and what it would be like... our minds were thinking of the immediate future. Each one tried to make out he didn't care, but each one was thinking upon the same subject his luck, fate, kismet.
Think of the little house the children the money difficulties she, spiritually starved, every illusion gone, you incapable soon of love, incapable even of pity, conscious only of a dull rage with her, yourself, the world! Bow the neck submit refuse that long agony for yourself and her, while there is still time. Kismet Kismet!
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