Veiled Women by Marmaduke Pickthall — Read

The women's quarters were a rambling place, with three small courtyards all on different levels, tunnels, staircases inside and out, and passages which ran in all directions. Besides the ladies Fitnah and Murjânah and their households, a widowed sister of the Pasha, and a former slave who had enjoyed his favour, kept separate state, with children and attendants. Freed slaves and poor relations, recognized go-betweens and sycophants came in and out, and slept there when they chose -- a privilege extending to their offspring. Old women with a secret, knowing look edged through the corridors; untidy children sprawled upon the stairs; outside the door of each of the great ladies stood rows of coloured slippers, signifying humble callers. The place seemed always populous and full of noise. In a sense, good order reigned there; but it was the order of a township rather than a private residence, including all degrees of cleanliness, of wealth and squalor. The corps of eunuchs, ten in all, were the police.

This little world of women had its liberties. From the third hour of the day until the sunset call to prayer, the lord of the harem was absent. If he happened to return, it was his duty to announce the fact beforehand, allowing time for visitors to veil and slip away. The inmates had their private interests, their games and jokes. The clash of tambourines, the quick soft beat of darabukkas made a pulse of glee. They all seemed happy and in love with life, although they hardly ever saw the sun or breathed free air; for when they drove abroad it was in shuttered carriages; and the family mausoleum, where they went for picnics, was a second palace with its own haremlik.