in those parts, and there was a gleaming black automobile draw-ing near me and then stopping, and a young man, handsome of face and dress, greeting me with a smile and saying:

'Are these flowers for sale, pretty one?...'

I answered at once:

'They are not for sale... but since they have caught your eye, they are yours...'

And I offered them to him. He said, drawing a silver coin from his pocket and placing it in my palm:

'This is not for the flowers... it is for your melodious voice... and your sweet, comely face. I heard you from afar, and here I am, seeing you from near... So sing me something... sing that song you were repeating a few moments ago... Come... shall I begin it?...'

And he began humming a tune off key, spoiling the words and losing the notes; but I could not bear that from him, and I found myself setting the tune right without knowing it and without wanting to, while he came toward me uneasily, studying my face in confusion, until, when I let myself go in song, he cried out at me:

'A shame... a shame... that this voice should be lost, that this beauty should wither... in these dunghills... these refuse heaps!!... A girl like you... in our country...'

'Your country?!...'

'Yes... the one spread out on the other side of the mountain, where you would find a thousand and one girls who wear silk dresses and live in lofty houses and drive splendid automobiles, and who would envy you this tan that darkens your face, and this lilt that mingles with your voice, and this delight that hovers about you... Ah, if only you were in our country... if only you went there for a single night... Will you go with me... will you go?...'

'Go with you?...'

'And why not?!... Only one night,

and you return before morning... Listen to me, and learn how far this earth is from that sky...'

The words caught in my mouth and I stammered, but I know not how I said:

'And my people... what would they say if they knew?! They would never allow it.'

'And what are your people to it? We shall not let them know... Listen... go home now... and do not come out until they are asleep... I shall wait for you here... by the river... at midnight... here... do you understand?...'

He said this, and reached out his hand and pinched my cheek; then he got into his automobile and went on his way, even as my legs carried me off on mine, as though something like magic had

touched me; as though that accent ringing in my ears, and that pinch smoldering on my cheek, and that trembling coming over me — as though all of these were driving me by force to go on; and so I hurried every step and every moment, and longed for the river and the night, until, when the steps were spent and the moments turned and the night grew deep, I heard my father say to my mother — my brothers asleep, and the lamp put out:

'What do you think, wife?... I see none fitter for Rabab than he...'

'Shawqi is our son, husband... our foster-child and our darling... his age is her age, and his mind is her mind, and his body is her body; and there is none fitter for Rabab...'

'Shall we broach the matter

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