‘Pray do not trouble yourself, Saling. “His dress for no man lays a snare; A man scores always, everywhere. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. In the first place there were not so many suitable advertisements as she had expected. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak. You must let me do whatever I can for you. ‘It is all too probable that she would wish to change into lay clothing to escape recognition. Closing the door, Jonathan next produced his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew a bolt by which it was fastened.
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