The Eye of Zeitoon
"What countryman are you?" I asked him.
"Zeitoonli," he answered, as if the word were honor itself and explanation bound in one. Yet he looked hardly like an honorable man. "The chilabi are staying here?" he asked. Chilabi means gentleman.
"We wait on the weather," said I, not caring to have him turn the tables on me and become interrogator.
He laughed with a sort of hard good humor.
"Since when have Eenglis sportmen waited on the weather? Ah, but you are right, effendi, none should tell the truth in this place, unless in hope of being disbelieved!" He laid a finger on his right eye, as I have seen Arabs do when they mean to ascribe to themselves unfathomable cunning. "Since you entered this c