She had approached so quietly that even Omar did not hear her footsteps, and she stood now looking at them with troubled eyes and parted lips, as if she was going to speak; but at Babalatchi's entreating gesture she remained silent.

Omar sat absorbed in thought.
"Ay wa! Even so!" he said at last, in a weak voice.

"I am to speak your wisdom, O Babalatchi! Tell him to trust the white man! I do not understand.

I am old and blind and weak.

I do not understand.