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Affair in Araby by Talbot Mundy
page 86 of 194 (44%)

Jeremy proceeded to apologize:

"So you're not such a thief as you looks."

Then he provided entertainment. He drew out the razor and did stunts
with it, juggling it with open blade from hand to hand--pretending to
drop it and always catching it again within a fraction of an inch of
Yussuf Dakmar's person. By and by he juggled with coins, match-box,
cigars, razor and anything he could lay his hands on.

"Mashallah!" exclaimed the Syrian at last, his face all sweaty with
excitement as he shrank back to avoid the spinning razor. "Where did you
learn such accomplishments?"

"Learn them?" answered Jeremy, still juggling. "I am a dervaish. I was
born, not taught. I can ride through the air on cannon-balls, and
whatever I wish for is mine the next minute. Look, I have one piastre.
I wish for twenty. What do I do? I spin it in the air--catch it--d'you
hear them? There you are--twenty! Count 'em if you like."

"A dervaish? A holy person? You? Where do you come from?"

"I was born in the belly of the South Wind," answered Jeremy. "Where I
come from, every shell-fish has a pearl in it and gold is so common that
the cattle wear it in their teeth. I can talk three languages at once
and swear in six, use sulphur for tobacco, eat sardines without opening
the can, and flavour my food for choice with gun-powder.

"I've been everywhere, seen everything, heard all the lies, and I found
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