It might be awkward for you; they are growing so squeamish about the Roumis killing the natives.

Draw him to one side there, and leave him.

The crows will finish his affair." The coolness with which this handsome child disposed of the fate of what, a moment or two before, had been a sentient, breathing, vigorous frame, sent a chill through her hearer, though he had been seasoned by a decade of slaughter.
"No," he said briefly.

"Suspicion might fall on some innocent passer-by.
Besides--he shall have a decent burial." "Burial for an Arab--pouf!" cried Cigarette in derision.

"Parbleu, M.
Bel-a-faire-peau, I have seen hundreds of our best soldiers lie rotting on the plains with the birds' beaks at their eyes and the jackals' fangs in their flesh.