Does she know all about Hussein?
Yes, everything. I’ve written fully.
Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir,
The nightingales that guard thy ways . . .
John Beal [shouting|
O, go away, go away. [To Archie.] I said it was an awful country. They sit down outside one’s tent and do that kind of thing for no earthly reason.
O, I’d let them sing.
O, you can’t have people doing that kind of thing.
Omar [in doorway]
Master, I go.
But why do you come?
I came to sing a joyous song to you, master.
Why did you want to sing me a joyous
Because a lady is riding out of the West. [Exit.]
A lady out of . . . Good Lord!
She’s coming, Johnny.
Coming? Good Lord, no, Archie. He said a lady; there’d be the chaperon too. There’d be two of them if it was Miss Miralda. But he said a lady. One lady. It can’t be her. A girl like that alone in Al Shaldomir. Clean off the map. Oh, no, it isn’t possible.
I wouldn’t worry.
Wouldn’t worry? But, good Lord, the situation’s impossible. People would talk. Don’t you see what people would say? And where could they go? Who would look after them? Do try and understand how awful it is. But it isn’t. It’s impossible. It can’t be them. For heaven’s sake run out and see if it is; and (good Lord!) I haven’t brushed my hair all day, and, and—oh, look at me.
[He rushes to camp mirror. Exit Archie.
John Beal tidies up desperately.
It’s what you call them.
What I call them? Whatever do you
Well, it’s her. She’s just like what you said.