They were so fat and cruel.

She used to tell me I must kill myself before I married a Turk.
Hamdi was going to make me marry Mohammed Ali one--two years ago; but he died.

When I said I was so glad" (that seems to be her usual formula of acknowledgment of news relating to the disasters of her acquaintance), "Hamdi shut me up in a dark room.

Then he said I must marry Mustapha.
That is why I ran away with Harry.

See?
Oh, Hamdi is shocking bad." From this and from other side-lights Carlotta has thrown on her upbringing, I can realise the poor, pretty weak-willed baby of a thing that was her mother, taking the line of least resistance, the husband dead and the babe in her womb, and entering the shelter offered by the amorous Turk.