A small and half-concealed door, known to few except the servants of the palace, opened upon it suddenly from a niche in one of the upper corridors.

In Moorish days the ladies of the harem had been wont to go there unseen to see the reception of ambassadors of state, and such ceremonies, at which, even veiled, they could never be present.
He only stayed a few moments, and though his eyes were eager, it was by habit rather than because they were searching for any one in the crowd.
It pleased him now and then to see the court world as a spectacle, as it delights the hard-worked actor to be for once a spectator at another's play.

He was an integral part of the court himself, a man of whom most was often expected when he had the least to give, to whom it was scarcely permitted to say anything in ordinary language, but to whom almost any license of familiar speech was freely allowed.

He was not a man, he was a tradition, a thing that had to be where it was from generation to generation; wherever the court had lived a jester lay buried, and often two and three, for they rarely lived an ordinary lifetime.

Adonis thought of that sometimes, when he was alone, or when he looked down at the crowd of delicately scented and richly dressed men and women, every one called by some noble name, who would doubtless laugh at some jest of his before the night was over.