What do you say, Miss Clement?
Yes, what do you feel we ought to do?
Well, perhaps I ought to leave all that to you.
No, it’s your money. What do you think we really ought to do?
Well, of course, I think you ought to kill Hussein.
[John Beal and Archie Beal look at each other a little startled.]
But wouldn’t that—wouldn’t that be—murder?
O, yes, according to the English law.
I see; you mean—you mean we’re not—but we are English.
I mean it wouldn’t be murder—by your law, unless you made it so.
By my law?
Yes, if you can interfere with their religion like this, and none of them say a word, why—you can make any laws you like.
But Hussein is king here; he is Lord of the Pass, and that’s everything here. I’m nobody.
O, if you like to be nobody, of course that’s different.
I think she means that if Hussein weren’t there there’d be only you. Of course, I don’t know. I’ve only just come.
But we can’t kill Hussein!
[Miralda begins to cry.]
O Lord! Good heavens! Please, Miss Clement! I’m awfully sorry if I’ve said anything you didn’t like. I wouldn’t do that for worlds. I’m awfully sorry. It’s a beastly country, I know. I’m really sorry you came. I feel it’s all my fault. I’m really awfully sorry. . .
Never mind. Never mind. I was so helpless, and I asked you to help me. I never ought to have done it. I oughtn’t to have spoken to you at all in that train without being introduced; but I was so helpless. And now, and now, I haven’t a penny in the world, and, O, I don’t know what to do.
We’ll do anything for you, Miss Clement.