Go, woman!
Then followed a silence of a minute or so, during which She appeared, if one might judge from the almost angelic rapture of her face—for she looked angelic sometimes—to be plunged into a happy ecstasy. Suddenly, however, a new thought struck her, and her expression became the very reverse of angelic.
“Almost had I forgotten,” she said, “that woman, Ustane. What is she to Kallikrates—his servant, or——” and she paused, and her voice trembled. I shrugged my shoulders. “I understand that she is wed to him according to the custom of the Amahagger,” I answered; “but I know not.” Her face grew dark as a thunder-cloud. Old as she was, Ayesha had not outlived jealousy. “Then there is an end,” she said; “she must die, even now!” “For what crime?” I asked, horrified. “She is guilty of n
