gazed complacently at his present attire, and Said groveled to the very floor.
Both of them lowered their voices as Colonel Spottiswoode strode out of his door at the far end of the piazza, while Zack hurriedly instructed Said: "When de Cunnel starts up town, you an' me is goin' to de sto'—fus' class white folks' sto'. Mawin', Cunnel, mawnin', suh."
"Good morning, Zack. How do they fit?"
"Fine, Cunnel, fine; leetle too tight in some places, an' den too baggy. Ain't quite got sot to my figger."
Said discreetly retired to the gate and waited; the East is always waiting.
Mahomet Mansour having served the Colonel's breakfast, the White Effendi took his seat at another table after the manner of scribes, and began writing interminable letters, while the Black Effendi followed that pig of a German steward about the garden, talking endlessly. Said watched and waited. Said spat vehemently upon the ground. Said loathed them both. "Patience of Allah!" he muttered. "How long, how long!"
Four black women, naked to the waist, with dirty rags twisted around their middles, fetched water from a canal that came gurgling under the wall. Reinhardt, the steward, directed their irrigation of his flowers. Zack dogged the steward's footsteps, for the German, like a Greek,
