Why, I’d tell him a bit about the law, and make him see that you didn’t keep all that money that belonged to someone else.
Would you really?
Nothing would please me better.
Would you really? Would you go all that way?
It’s just the sort of thing that I should like, apart from the crying shame. The man ought to be . . .
We’re getting into Holborn. Would you come and lunch somewhere with me and talk it over?
Gladly. I’d be glad to help. I’ve got to see a man on business first. I’ve come up to see him. And then after that, after that there was something I wanted to do after that. I can’t think what it was. But something I wanted to do after that. O, heavens, what was it?
Can’t you think?
No. O, well, it can’t have been so very important. And yet . . . Well, where shall we lunch?
Right. What time?
One-thirty. Would that suit?
Perfectly. I’d like to get a man like Hussein in prison. I’d like . . . O, I beg your pardon.
[He hurries to open the door. Exit Miralda.]
Now what was it I wanted to do afterwards?
[Throws hand to forehead.] O, never mind.
JOHN’s tent in Al Shaldomir. There are two heaps of idols, left and right, lying upon the ground inside the tent. Daoud carries another idol in his arms. John looks at its face.
Six months have elapsed since the scene in the second-class railway carriage.
This god is holy.
[He points to the left heap. Daoud carries it there and lays it on the heap.]
Yes, great master.