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Excerpt from The House of War
Between the high, mud-plastered walls of ¿at roofed houses, with here and there a glimpse of leafy orchards, a never-ending stream of country people ¿owed into the Eastern city. The sun had just arisen, spreading shadows as soft and deep and rich of hue as Persian rugs. Behind the tower - like upper storeys and some trees to eastward all was molten gold. Doves were cooing, hens were cluck ing, sheep were baa-ing; bugles sounded in the dis tance from the Turkish barracks; while from an unseen smithy near at hand came the musical clink of a hammer on iron. People sitting up on mules and donkeys between paniers filled with garden produce, women in ¿owing draperies with laden trays or pitchers on their heads and children clinging to their skirts, advanced continually, their footfalls noiseless on the dusty road. Vendors of all sorts of foodstuff raised their cries.
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