- clad foot. I hate to witness marital disagreements,
so I rose to go; but Semmeya caught my dress and imperiously pulled me back into my seat.
"Beauty," the man reiterated, with rising anger, "you know you did it."
She continued to look out of the latticed window, down on the waters of the Golden Horn. Her profile was turned to her husband. This was the prettiest view of her, and the one she always presented to him when she wished to dominate him—she told me so herself. Her wavy hair was loosely combed back on her neck, and a red rose was carelessly placed a little below her pretty ear. She was dressed in a soft green silk garment, the diaphanous sleeves displaying her well-shaped arms. Her slim but well-rounded neck was bare, and one could see that she was in a temper by the way the veins stood out on her throat.
"You did it, Beauty," the man persisted in an even monotone that sounded like the approach of the storm.
I rose for the second time to go, but the hand, more imperious than before, pulled me down again; then the owner of the hand snapped out:
"Since you believe the word of the eunuch against mine, and you are so certain I did it, why do you wish me to verify it? Begone, man, begone!"
