«Ch’andek? What’s the matter with you? What are you trying to do?» the young man was saying indignantly. «Are you ashamed of being a Moslem? It’s very bad, what you are doing. You think I don’t remember you from the Bar Lucifer? Ha! Hamqat, entina! Hamqat!» His breath smelled strongly of the brandy he had been drinking all day.
Hadija was violently indignant. «Ana hamqat?» she began, and realized too late that she had given herself away. The young man laughed delightedly, and tried to get her to go on, but she froze into absolute silence. Finally she cried out in Arabic: «You’re hurting me!» and breaking from his embrace hurried to Eunice’s side, where she stood rubbing her shoulder. «Wan fackin bastard,» she said under her breath to Eunice, who had witnessed her linguistic indiscretion and realized that as far as the young man was concerned the game was up.
«Shut up!» She seized Hadija’s arm and pulled her off into an empty corner.
«I want wan Coca-Cola,» objected Hadija. «Very hot. That lousy guy dance no good».
«Who is he, anyway?»
«Wan Moorish man live in Tangier».
«I know, but who? What’s he doing in the Beidaoui Palace?»
«He plenty drunk».
Eunice mused a moment, letting go of Hadija’s arm. With as much dignity as she could summon, she strode across the room toward Hassan Beidaoui, who, seeing her coming, turned around and managed to be talking animatedly with Mme. Werth by the time she reached him. The maneuver proved quite worthless, of course, since Eunice’s piercing «I say» began while she was still ten feet away. She tapped Hassan’s arm and he faced her patiently, prepared to listen to another series of incomprehensible reminiscences about Crown Prince Rupprecht.
«I say!» She indicated Hadija’s recent dancing partner. «I say, isn’t that the eldest son of the Pacha of Fez? I’m positive I remember him from Paris».
«No,» said Hassan quietly. «That is my brother Thami. Would you like to meet him?» (This suggestion was prompted less by a feeling of amiability toward Eunice Goode than by one of spite toward Thami, whose unexpected appearance both Hassan and Abdelmalek considered an outrage. They had suggested he leave, but being a little drunk he had only laughed. If anyone present could precipitate his departure, thought Hassan, it was this outlandish American woman.) «Will you come?» He held out his arm. Eunice reflected quickly, and said she would be delighted.
She was not surprised to find Thami exactly the sort of Arab she most disliked and habitually inveighed against: outwardly Europeanized but inwardly conscious that the desired metamorphosis would remain forever unaccomplished, and therefore defiant, on the offensive to conceal his defeat, irresponsible and insolent. For his part, Thami behaved in a particularly obnoxious fashion. He was in a foul humor, having met with no success either in attempting to get the money for the boat from his brothers, or in persuading them to agree to the sale of his house in the Marshan. And again, this hideous woman was his idea of the typical tourist who admired his race only insofar as its members were picturesque.
«You want us all to be snake-charmers and scorpion-eaters,» he raged, at one point in their conversation, which he had inevitably maneuvered in such a direction as to permit him to make his favorite accusations.
«Naturally,» Eunice replied in her most provoking manner. «It would be far preferable to being a nation of tenth-rate pseudo-civilized rug-sellers». She smiled poisonously, and then belched in his face.
At that moment Dyar came in. The candlelight seemed bright to him and he blinked his eyes. Seeing Thami in the center of the room, he looked surprised for an instant, and then went up to him and greeted him warmly. Without seeming to see Eunice, he took him by the arm and led him aside. «I want to settle my little debt with you, from the other night».
«Oh, that’s all right,» said Thami, looking at him expectantly. And as the money changed hands, Thami said: «She’s here. You have seen her?»
«Yeah, sure».
«You brought her?»
«No. Miss Goode over there». Dyar jerked his chin in her direction, and Thami fell to thinking.
From where she stood Eunice watched them, saw Dyar slip some notes into Thami’s hand, and guessed correctly that Thami had been the friend who had lent him the money to pay Hadija at the Bar Lucifer. It was the realization of her worst fears, and in her present unbalanced state she built it up into a towering nightmare. The two men held her entire future happiness in their hands. If anyone had observed her face closely at that moment, he would unhesitatingly have declared her mad, and he would probably have moved quickly away from her. It had suddenly flashed upon her, the realization of how supremely happy she had been at the Beidaouis’ this evening — at least, it seemed so to her now. Hadija belonged completely to her, she had been accepted, was even having a small success at the moment as Miss Kumari, chatting in monosyllables with Dr. Waterman in a corner. But Miss Kumari’s feet were planted at the edge of a precipice, and it required the merest push from either of the two men there (she clenched her fists) to topple her over the brink. The American was the more dangerous, however, and she already had set in motion the apparatus that was destined to get rid of him. «It can’t fail,» she thought desperately. But of course it could fail. There was no particular reason to believe that he would keep the appointment so clumsily arranged by Mme. Jouvenon for tomorrow, nor were there any grounds for confidence in her ability to make matters go as they were supposed to go. She opened her mouth wide and after some difficulty belched again. The room was going away from her; she felt it draining off into darkness. Making a tremendous effort, she prevented herself from tipping sideways toward the floor, and took a few steps forward, perhaps with the intention of speaking to Dyar. But the effort was too much. Her final remaining energy was used in reaching a nearby empty chair; she slid into it and lost consciousness.
Daisy had joined Dyar, without, however, paying any notice to Thami, who unobtrusively walked away. «Good God!» she cried, seeing Eunice’s collapse. «That’s a lovely sight. I don’t intend to be delegated to carry it home, though, which is exactly what will happen unless I leave». She paused, and seemed to be changing her mind. «No! Her little Greek friend can just call for a taxi and the servants can dump her in. I’m damned if I’ll play chauffeur to Uncle Goode, and I’m damned if I’ll go home to keep from doing it, either. Hassan — aren’t they both swreet? don’t you love them?» — Dyar assented. — «He’s offered to show us the great room, and that doesn’t happen every day. I’ve seen it only once, and I’m longing to see it again. So there’s going to be no victim here, making a Red Cross ambulance out of the car, and going up that fiendish narrow street to the Metropole. God!» She paused, then went on. «They’re not ready to take us yet. They want to wait till a few more people have left. But I must talk to you before you disappear again. I saw you run out, darling. You’ve got to stop acting like a pariah. Come over here and sit down. I’ve got two things to say to you, and both are important, and not very pleasant».