His temporal reign in Allaha was somewhere near four hundred years, and no doubt his emerald eyes had seen a crimson trail behind his car as many hundred times.
He was married frequently.

Some poor, benighted, fanatical woman would pledge herself and would be considered with awe till she died.

But in these times no one flung himself under the car; nothing but the incense of crushed flowers now followed his wake.

His grin, however, was the same as of old.

Wood, paint, gilt and emeralds! Well, we enlightened Europeans sometimes worship these very things, though we indignantly deny it.
Outside the temple stood the car, fantastically carved, dull with rubbed gold leaf.