beating her forehead and tearing her hair, though not indeed in a way to injure it.
'What have I done?' she cried. 'Why is my lord displeased?'
Khaled looked at her in surprise, but answered nothing at first.
'Why are my lord's eyes like frozen pools by the Kura, and why is his forehead like Kasbek in a mist?'
Khaled laughed a little at her words.
'Kasbek is far from Riad,' he answered, 'and the waters of the Kura do not irrigate the Red Desert. I am not displeased. On the contrary, I will give you a husband and a sufficient dowry. Go in peace.'
But Almasta remained where she was, weeping and beating her forehead.
'Let me stay!' she cried. 'Let me stay, for I love you. I will eat the dust under your feet. Only let me stay.'
'I think not,' Khaled answered. 'You weary Zehowah with your silence and your sullenness.'
'Let me stay!' she repeated, over and over again.
She was not making any pretence of grief, for the tears ran down abundantly and stained the red leather of Khaled's shoes. Though he was hard-hearted he was not altogether cruel, for a man who loves one woman greatly is somewhat softened towards all such as do not stand immediately in his way.
