Summary

| editor The Modern Review, Volume 7, Number 2… (1910)

Most of the rooms of that palace were always kept closed and I had never entered them.
I followed breathless and with noiseless steps my invisible guide—I cannot now say where. What endless dark and narrow passages, long corridors, silent and solemn audience-chambers and close secret cells I crossed!
Though I could not see my fair guide, her form was not invisible to my mind's eye. An Arab girl, her arms hard and smooth as marble visible through her loose sleeves, a thin veil falling on her face from the fringe of her cap, and a curved dagger at her waist.
Source: Wikisource

| editor The Modern Review, Volume 7, Number 2… (1910)

About 250 years ago the Emperor Mahmud Shah II had built this palace for his pleasure and luxury on this lonely spot. In those days jets of rose-water would spurt out from the fountains of its baths, and there on the cold marble floors of the secluded spray-cooled rooms would sit the young Persian damsels, their hair dishevelled before bath, and, stretching their soft naked feet in the clear water of the reservoirs, would sing, to the tune of the guitar, the ghazals of their vineyards.
Source: Wikisource

| editor The Modern Review, Volume 7, Number 2… (1910)

I noticed that it stopped of itself at the gate of the marble palace just at the hour of twilight. With quick steps I climbed the stairs and entered the room.
A heavy silence was reigning within. The dark rooms were looking sullen as if they had taken offence. My heart was full of contrition but there was no one to whom I could lay it bare, or of whom I could ask forgiveness. I wandered about the dark rooms with a vacant mind. I wished I had a musical instrument to which I could sing to the unknown: "O fire, the poor moth that made a vain effort to fly away has come back to thee!
Source: Wikisource

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