Explore "Veiled Women" by Marmaduke Pickthall on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
No sooner was the Pasha gone than Umm ed-Dahak crept back softly to her mistress and cooed of consolation in her ear. Muhammad, who had started howling out of sympathy, she told to go and play with Ghandûr's son.
"By Allah, it is all my fault, not thine," she whispered. "I ought to have foreseen this grief and warned thee. Vex not thy soul at all! It is no matter! Praise be to Allah, we can change our policy. Tomorrow thou wilt beat thy son a little, and all the world will praise thy management."