III
Dinner that day was the most enjoyable which Anniston had ever partaken of. Old Menehem Sorcha, grim and grey, sat at the head of the finely carved teakwood table. The American sat on the left and Berenice on the right. All the other places were vacant. The dining room was picturesque to an extent: long, high-vaulted like the interior of a church, with thin slits for windows, through which the sunlight penetrated but dimly. To make amends for its absence, however, the ceiling was hung with numerous soft-toned lanterns with rims of hammered bronze. Many were of enormous size, and as Anniston gazed upon them, old Sorcha spoke:
"No doubt, you know, having resided in Persia for some time, that these lanterns carried in the street denote a person's rank. Sometimes they are thirty-six inches in height and over half as wide, so large, in fact, that it is not uncommon for a notable to be proceeded by a servant whose sole duty is to carry the lantern to light the way for his lord and master."
"'Tis a very strange custom," interjected Anniston, "but I have found that Persia has many oddities. The dakmehs of the Parsees, for instance. It seems very queer and barbaric to me to leave the dead exposed
