"If it is a compliment, thank you kindly. You know I like pretty speeches as well as Mrs. Craig likes bonbons. But exactly why am I like a firefly? I have no wings."
"In the song about Zuleika's eyes which you liked, they are compared to the light of the firefly. When they are turned upon her lover all is bright and beautiful, but when the lids drop before their light, like the wings of the firefly, the world is dark."
"Did you ever know any one called Zuleika?"
"Yes."
"Where did she live?"
"In a little tent near the banks of the river Jordan."
"Was she pretty?"
"Hardly pretty; the term is too English to describe the black-browed Zuleika."
"Who was she?"
"The daughter of the sheik Abdul, with whom I lived some time."
"But how was it possible that you should
