Fred, Will, you, Gloria, everybody—an' Zeitoon is all burn' up by bloody Turks!"
She paused and looked at me sidewise under lowered eyelids. I stared straight in front of me, as if in the state of self-hypnotism that is the fortune-teller's happy hunting-ground.
"You understan'?"
"Yes," I said. "I think I see. But how shall I marry Miss Gloria ? Suppose she does not want me?"
"You must! Never mind what she want! Listen! This is only way to save your frien's and Zeitoon! I am giving men—four—five—six men. They are seizing Gloria. You go with them. They take you safe away. Then Zeitoon is also safe, an' your frien's are also safe."
"Monty, too?" I asked.
"Yes, then he is also safe." But—I felt her hands tremble slightly as she said that.
"Do you mean I should leave him?" I asked.
"You must! You must!" She almost screamed at me, and shook my hand between her two palms as if by that means to drive the fact into my consciousness. The old hag had her eyes fixed on my right temple as if she would burn a hole there, and between them they were making a better than amateur effort to control me by suggestion. It seemed wise to help them deceive themselves. Maga let go my hand gently, and began passing her ten fingers very softly through my hair, and there are other men who will bear me witness that there exists sensation less appealing than when a pretty girl does that.
"You must!" she said again more quietly. "That is the only way to save Zeitoon. God is angry."
"What do you know about God?" I asked unguardedly,
