"So!" said Jill after an interval in which the atmosphere, charged with
the electricity of anger, lust, scorn, and all the kindred sisters of
evilness, resembled what might be the result of a cross between a
spitting cat and a wireless installation. "So! Am I to understand
that you have vulgarly kidnapped me--and are holding me _not_ for
ransom, but for your evil pleasures and those of your friends?"

"Quite so, Mademoiselle! Your words are as clear as the stream running
through a certain oasis which long I coveted, but which fell to my
greatest enemy because he had a few more piastres than I--and maybe a
little more diplomacy--a man who would kill me if he could but find the
excuse, the moral breeder of camels, the fanatic son of Solomon, Hahmed
the great, Hahmed the most noble--_pah_!"

For one brief second Jill's eyes scanned the sensual face in front, but
seeing nothing more subtle than an intense hatred therein for the
absent man, shrugged her shoulders and then flung up her hand sharply
as the man's hand suddenly fastened on her wrist.

"Let go my hand at once," she said as indifferently as though she were
asking for a glass of water, but she wrenched herself free and fled
behind a divan almost hidden in a bower of growing tropical plants as
the man let go at her command to suddenly grip her about the waist.

"I shall scream the place down, and bite, and kick, and scratch, if you
touch me again."

For one moment they looked at each other across the pile of silken
cushions, the dark shining leaves of the plants throwing up the girl's
wonderful colouring, the white petals of a flower falling like snow