He passed through evil-smelling alleys so shut in by lofty houses that
the sun hardly ever penetrated their depths. He caught glimpses of dun
interiors when forced aside by a panier-laden mule or lumbering camel,
and the knowledge was thrust upon him in many ways that his presence in
this minor artery of the bazaar was resented by its inhabitants.
The few females he met were swathed from head to foot in cotton
garments that had once been white. Dark eyes glanced curiously at him
over the yashmak, or veil, which covered nose, cheeks, and mouth from
the gaze of strangers. Orange-tinted nails and fingertips, visible
occasionally when the loose fold of a robe was snatched from the
contamination of touching him, suggested the talons of a bird of prey
rather than the slender well-shaped hand for which the Arab woman is
noteworthy. Every man, almost without exception, scowled at him. Naked
children, playing in the gutter, ran off, half frightened, yet stopped
to shriek words which he was quite sure were not kindly greetings.
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