|
O, a week or so.
I don’t know what you’ll think of Al
Shaldomir. I’m afraid you’ll find
it . . .
Oh, I like it. Just that hollow in the mountains, and the one pass, and no record of it anywhere. I like that. I think it’s lovely.
You see, I’m afraid—what I mean is I’m afraid the place isn’t even on the map!
O, that’s lovely of it.
All decent places are.
You mean if a place is on the map we’ve got to behave accordingly. But if not, why . . .
Hussein won’t pay.
Let’s see Hussein.
I’m afraid he’s rather, he’s rather a savage-looking brigand.
Never mind.
[Archie is quietly listening and smiling sometimes.
Enter Daoud. He goes up to the unholy heap and takes away two large idols, one under each arm. Exit.]
What’s that, Mr. Beal?
O, that. I’m afraid it’s rather horrible. I told you it was an awful country. They pray to these idols here, and some are all right, though of course it’s terribly blasphemous, but that heap, well, I’m afraid, well that heap is very bad indeed.
What do they do?
They kill people.
Do they? How?
I’m afraid they pour their blood down those horrible throats.
Do they? How do you know?
I’ve seen them do it, and those mouths are all rusty. But it’s all right now. It won’t happen any more.
Won’t it? Why not?
Well, I . . .
|






