A striped silk scarf was bound
turban-wise about his head, from which tufts of snowy wool
protruded. From his ears hung crescent-shaped silver ear-rings
studded with coral and turquoise; a necklace of the same barbaric
magnificence was about his neck, and his arms were covered with
bracelets. His deep-set eyes, his flat nose, his mouth set in a
thousand fine wrinkles, the whole aspect of him, breathed a sly and
impish drollery. He glanced from Alicia to me with the smiling
malice of a jinnee delighted to mystify mortals. Then with a rapid
movement he shifted the umbrella he carried over a large
linen-covered tray, eased the latter upon the deep window-ledge, and
beckoned with a very black and beringed hand.
"For _us_?" breathed Alicia.
With a fine flourish he swept aside the linen covering. And there
was golden-brown chicken, white rice, cream gravy, hot biscuit, cool
sliced tomatoes with sprigs of green parsley, fresh butter, fresh
cream, a great slab of heavenly cake, a wicker basket of Elberta
peaches, rain-cooled, odorous, delicious, and a pot of steaming
coffee. On the edge of the tray was a cluster of rain-washed roses.
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