He had thrown off the grey army blanket because fever burned him, and his lean, hard muscles stood out as if cast in bronze.
"But for the Jews, Feisul would be king of all this land this minute!" he said suddenly, and closed up tight again.
Grim smiled.

He nearly always does smile when apparently at a loose end.

At moments when most cross-examiners would browbeat he grows sympathetic--humours his man, and, by following whatever detour offers, gets back on the trail again.
"How about the French ?" he asked.
"May Allah smite them! They are all in the pay of Jews!" "Can you prove it ?" "Wallah! That I can!" Grim looked incredulous.

Those baffling eyes of his twinkled with quiet amusement, and the man in bed resented it.
"You laugh, Jimgrim, but if you would listen I might tell you something." But Grim only smiled more broadly than ever.
"Sidi bin Tagim, you're one of those fanatics who think the world is all leagued against you.

Why should the Jews think you sufficiently important to be murdered ?" "Wallah! There are few who hold the reins of happenings as I do." "If they'd killed you they'd have stopped the clock, eh ?" "That is as Allah may determine.