Is it carpets or cushions?
or is it female attire or jewelry? Do you want mirrors, embroidered
veils, or silken shawls? What is it you want?"
Somewhat confused and embarrassed, Mohammed looks at the merchant
and hardly knows what to say.
"Then let me have a carpet; I wish to spread it out in my room. I
have, until now, changed nothing in my hut, but have left it just as
it was when Sitta Khadra lived in it. Now, however, it seems to me
that it would not perhaps become the boulouk bashi to continue to
live so wretchedly."
"Yes, the old story--with office comes pride," said the merchant,
laughing. "The boulouk bashi, of course, needs carpets and all sorts
of furniture. Here is an arm-chair inlaid with mother-of-pearl; does
it suit? Here are Persian carpets; the colors are a little faded,
and you can have them at a low price."
"No, nothing with faded colors. Let me have your most beautiful
carpet! Let the ground be white and covered with flowers, with roses
and violets; and I wish, too, they could have life and fragrance!"
"Oho, Mr. Boulouk Bashi!" cried the merchant, laughing, and raising
his finger threateningly. "Now the secret is out; you are in, love!
This carpet is not for yourself, but for some beautiful woman. Ah,
yes, I have heard something about this affair before, and now I know
it is true."
"What have you heard, sir? What is it that is said of me?" asked
Mohammed, gravely, his countenance suddenly darkening.
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