Egyptian, even for a minute, as one does toward men of one's own blood
--I mean, on the same level, or even as if a person like that were
_above_ one. It's just the picturesque dignity of the _costume_, and
the _pose,_ perhaps. And then, this strange glamour of the East is over
everybody and everything, here. I used to wonder why people wrote and
spoke of the East as _mysterious._ Why should it be more mysterious
than the West? I would ask. Nobody could explain exactly. They said
only, "It is." Now I know why--at least I _feel_ why. Without his green
turban, or in European coat instead of his graceful silk robe, and away
from these luminous sunsets of pale rose and gold and emerald, Antoun
would be nothing extraordinary, would he? He says he is considered old
fashioned in his way of dress. Most of his friends wear European
clothes, and the tarboosh which Egyptians love because it never blows
away or falls off when they pray. He _does_ make me angry, because he
wants to banish the beggars and poor men who sell things in the street,
instead of letting me give and buy. What am I _for_, with all my money,
except to do things for people? And it's such fun making them happy by
saying "I _want_ a cat-necklace--" or a scarab, or whatever they have,
instead of pushing past with a stony glare as if they were dust under
our feet. Of course we're attended by great crowds whereever we go,
because it's got round that we don't refuse any one, consequently it
takes a _little_ long to arrive anywhere. But what does that matter in
Egypt? Already I'm losing my American hustle. I want to eat lotuses,
which seem out of season in Egypt now! I've asked for them everywhere
but can't get them. I want to feel back in the Middle Ages, in Cairo,
which, as Antoun says, is an Oriental and Medieval Gateway to the Egypt
older than history. And how I am looking forward to the _Desert!_ Sir
Marcus tells us that _you_ are to take the people of the _Candace_ for
a desert trip before they go up the Nile; so of course you must count
us among your "trippers," and Mr. Willis and Mr. Sheridan, who have