The slave advanced timidly to the entrance of the kiosk, and
announced the visitor to Sitta Nefysseh, who, awakening from a dream
she had dreamed with open eyes, gently inclined her head.
"He is welcome. Conduct him to me.--Come nearer, ye slaves, and seat
yourselves behind that clump of rose-bushes. You can sing and play
while I am receiving my visitor, for Osman Bey loves music. Do me
honor, my slaves, and sing the love-songs of Djumeil and his Lubna."
Bardissi cannot see these musicians as he advances toward the kiosk,
conducted by the slave; he only hears and rejoices in their song.
Sitta Nefysseh has risen from her cushions, but she has not covered
her face with the veil which, fastened to her hair with golden
clasps, falls back over her shoulders. The widow, and above all the
widow of the bey, is allowed to remain unveiled in the presence of a
friend. The great prophet never commanded that the wives of Moslems
should appear veiled in their own houses; the jealousy of their
husbands had gradually imposed this burden upon them. Conscious of
her own worth and dignity, Sitta Nefysseh feels herself free to
disregard such requirement. She turns her lovely countenance with a
gentle smile toward the advancing bey, and Bardissi feels the glance
of her large eyes, though he does not see them. He feels it, and
moves not, a slight tremor possessing itself of his entire being.
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