But she was not long about doing that--say fifteen minutes--nine hundred seconds; suppressed curiosity can work up a pretty high pressure in that time.
"Who is this man who looks like Ali Higg ?" she asked me suddenly, and I had a good look at her face; you don't have to answer questions without thinking, just because they are asked by a woman in a friendly tone of voice.
Her nose was Roman and very narrow, and her dark eyes looked straight at you without their pupils converging, which produced a sensation of being seen through.

She had splendid teeth; and her mouth, which was humorous, turning upward at the corners when she smiled, had nevertheless a certain suggestion of stealthy strength--perhaps cruelty.

Her chin was firm and practical.

So were her freckled hands.

I decided that the less I said the better.
"He is a sheikh," said I pretty abruptly.
She turned that empty information over in her mind for a minute, and decided to turn her guns on me.