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The Palace of Darkened Windows by Mary Hastings Bradley
page 35 of 345 (10%)
tracery; the mirror which confronted her was framed in silver, and
beneath it a tiny cabinet revealed a frivolous store of powders and
pins and scents. Decidedly the Oriental widow of said sequestration
had a car very much up to times. The only difference which it
presented from the cars of any modern city or of any modern lady was
in the smallness of the window panes, whose contracted size
confirmed the stories of the restrictions which Arlee had been told
were imposed upon Moslem ladies by even those emancipated masculine
relatives who conceded cars.

She peered out of the diminutive windows at the throng of life in
the unquiet streets as they halted for the passing of a camel laden
with bricks and stones from a demolished building; the poor thing
teetered precariously past under such a back-breaking load that the
girl felt it would have been a mercy to add the last straw and be
done with it. After it bobbed what was apparently an animated load
of hay, so completely were this other camel's legs hidden by his
smothering burden.

Then the car shot impatiently forward, passing a dog cart full of
fair-haired English children, the youngest clasped in the arms of a
dark-skinned nurse, and behind the cart ran an indefatigable _sais_,
bare-legged and sinewy, his red headdress and gold-embroidered
jacket and blue bloomers flashing in the sun. On the sidewalk a
party of American tourists were capitulating to a post-card vender,
and ahead of them a victoria load of German sightseers careened
around the corner in the charge of a determined dragoman.

Arlee smiled in happy superiority over these mere outsiders. _She_
was not going about the beaten track, peeping at mosques and tombs
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