She looked at
him composedly, and remained standing at the door with so proud and
dignified a bearing, such majesty in her whole appearance, that
Cousrouf's insolence could not but succumb. He arose and advanced to
meet her.
"I salute you, Sitta Nefysseh, widow of Mourad Bey!"
"I do not return your salutation. I have been conducted here from my
house in an insulting manner, and I am now surprised to find that
his highness seems only to have had me brought here in order to
salute me."
"I did not call you in order to salute you, but for an entirely
different purpose," replied Cousrouf. "Seat yourself on the ottoman
beside me, and let us converse."
"Converse, highness? Friends and confidants sit down to converse
with each other, but unfortunately we are neither," replied she,
composedly, as she seated herself on the ottoman with the dignity of
a princess. Cousrouf remaining standing, Sitta Nefysseh raised her
hand and pointed to the divan. "To the viceroy belongs the seat of
honor. I beg your highness to take that seat."
He bowed slightly, and took the seat assigned him.
"I wished to beg Sitta Nefysseh's permission to seat myself at her
side,to converse with her as a friend. You do not desire it,
however--you wish to see in me the prince only. Let it be so. I am
only the viceroy, and I have summoned you to appear before me."
"Summoned, you call it?" cried she, passionately.
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