I like your moustache." And he flushed again with pleasure.
He had a sweet, almost girlish face, with delicate skin that the Egyptian
sun had deepened into ruddiness; with soft, dreamy eyes and golden hair.
He looked lithe and agile rather than strong. He was shy at first, but
once set going, talked freely, and was interesting.
His work had taken him into the Desert, far from the beaten tracks. He
described the life of the people, very little different from what it must
have been in Noah's time. For months he had been the only white man
there, and had lived among them. What had struck him was how little he
had missed all the paraphernalia of civilization, once he had got over
the first shock. He had learnt their sports and games; wrestled and swum
and hunted with them. Provided one was a little hungry and tired with
toil, a stew of goat's flesh with sweet cakes and fruits, washed down
with wine out of a sheep's skin, made a feast; and after, there was music
and singing and dancing, or the travelling story-teller would gather
round him his rapt audience.
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