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From: | Joachim Giles |
Subject: | [Help-sweater] ponderous AM |
Date: | Mon, 21 Aug 2006 21:43:35 +0200 |
In the evening the telephone rang; and the Sherif
called Storrs to theinstrument. Another friend at court wasFaisel Ghusein, a
secretary. He asked if we would not like to listen to his band.
We ascended steadily till werejoined the main track
of the pilgrim road. Down some part of itwater flowed for an hour or two, or even
for a day or two, every somany years.
We got tired of Turkish music, and asked for
German.
Our mixed party seemed to disturb the ships company
intheir own element.
Did yousee how Mohsin raged when Ali beat
him?
Accordingly, the country was prosperous, whilethe
towns went short.
He was now a fugitive, living in the hills tothe
East, and was known to be in touch with the Turks.
At Khoreiba the Turks could concentrate a large
force toattack our proposed brigade in Rabegh.
In a few days they were bubbling over on my
account, and at lastdetermined to endure me no longer.
Our ears ached withnoise; but Abdulla beamed. The
Arabs thought Abdulla a far-seeing statesman and an astutepolitician. The lattices
andwall-returns deadened all reverberation of voice. Zeid, of course, was even less
than Abdulla theborn leader of my quest. We asked for more German music; and they
playedEine feste Burg. Quite close to the north bank of the Masturah, we found the
well.
The Turks wouldenter Mecca over his dead body. In a
few days they were bubbling over on my account, and at lastdetermined to endure me
no longer.
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