The upper ranks affect
Turkish and Egyptian luxuries in their homes, as I had an opportunity
of seeing at Omar Effendi's house in the "Barr;" and in these countries
the abodes of the poor are everywhere very similar.
Our life in Shaykh Hamid's house was quiet, but not disagreeable. I
never once set eyes upon the face of woman, unless the African slave
girls be allowed the title. Even these at first attempted to draw their
ragged veils over their sable charms, and would not answer the simplest
question; by degrees they allowed me to see them, and they ventured
their voices to reply to me; still they never threw off a certain
appearance of shame.[FN#20]
[p.298] I never saw, nor even heard, the youthful mistress of the
household, who stayed all day in the upper rooms. The old lady, Hamid's
mother, would stand upon the stairs, and converse aloud with her son,
and, when few people were about the house, with me. She never, however,
as afterwards happened to an ancient dame at Meccah, came and sat by my
side.
When lying during mid-day in the gallery, I often saw parties of women
mount the stairs to the Gynaeconitis, and sometimes an individual would
stand to shake a muffled hand[FN#21] with Hamid, to gossip awhile, and
to put some questions concerning absent friends; but they were most
decorously wrapped up, nor did they ever deign to deroger, even by
exposing an inch of cheek.
