Fenzileh drew close to him. "Thou'lt not relinquish her, eh?" she asked,
and he was sure she sneered. "Be not so confident. Thou'lt be forced to
it, my friend--if not to me, why then, to Asad. He is coming for her,
himself, in person."
"Asad?" he cried, startled now.
"Asad-ed-Din," she answered, and upon that resumed her pleading. "Come,
then! It were surely better to make a good bargain with me than a bad
one with the Basha."
He shook his head and planted his feet squarely. "I intend to make no
bargain with either of you. This slave is not for sale."
"Shalt thou dare resist Asad? I tell thee he will take her whether she
be for sale or not."
"I see," he said, his eyes narrowing. "And the fear of this, then, is
the source of thy whim to acquire her for thyself. Thou art not subtle,
0 Fenzileh. The consciousness that thine own charms are fading sets thee
trembling lest so much loveliness should entirely cast thee from thy
lord's regard, eh?"
If he could not see her face, and study there the effect of that thrust
of his, at least he observed the quiver that ran through her muffled
figure, he caught the note of anger that throbbed in her reply--"And if
that were so, what is't to thee?"
"It may be much or little," he replied thoughtfully.
"Indeed, it should be much," she answered quickly, breathlessly. "Have I
not ever been thy friend? Have I not ever urged thy valour on my lord's
notice and wrought like a true friend for thine advancement,
Sakr-el-Bahr?"
He laughed outright.
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