He looked more closely.

That small carefully trimmed black beard might give the look of age, the long robe add to his height.

Yes, it was Shere Ali.

Linforth walked along the balcony, and as he approached, Shere Ali turned quickly towards him.

The blood rushed into his dark face; he stood staring at Linforth like a man transfixed.
Linforth held out his hand with a smile.
"I hardly knew you again," he said.
Shere Ali did not take the hand outstretched to him; he did not move; neither did he speak.