There is in most of us, Arabs
or otherwise, a deep-seated sporting instinct (is that the right word?)
which the system of legalized unions was contrived to curb, but cannot; if
connubial life were a hazardous liaison there would be fewer divorces.
A perverse and sordid romance, you will say.
And yet it endured, like many of its kind.
_Chapter XX_
_A WATERY LABYRINTH_
Tozeur is more than twice as large as Gafsa, and the inhabitants are a
healthier race, good-natured and docile, with much of the undiluted Berber
blood still in their veins. The houses are also of better construction,
and not a few of them can boast of cool, vaulted chambers and an upper
story. Unfortunately for the artistic effect, new French buildings are
rising up here and there; it is inevitable--the place cannot be expected
to stand still; artists and dreamers must now go further afield.
And the oasis is a forest of sumptuous splendour, wherein grow bananas
(absent in Gafsa), together with every other kind of fruit and vegetable,
but chiefly date-palms, that give the highest and most constant return.
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