Explore "Veiled Women" by Marmaduke Pickthall on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
From the shadow of a mass of houses close at hand emerged the figure of a man in flowing robes, and glided towards her. For the moment she supposed it was an angel. Again the sweet voice thrilled her, asking:
"What ails thee, O my sister? Art thou wounded? May Allah heal and comfort thee in thy distress!"