A small man, with an olive complexion, dark eyes, and dark but graying hair stepped inside."Good," he said, in heavily accented English. "You're awake..."He leaned down and removed the gag. "Where am I?" Samantha croaked.He smiled. "Just relax, miss. His Highness wants to see you."She gasped, "His Highness?"The small man bowed. "His Royal Highness, the Sultan of Al Banyan, Rashid al Abdul-lan."Oh, God! A harem! Samantha thought in terror."I'm in a harem?"The man chuckled. "No, miss. You are to be. Don't you think?"Marjorie coughed politely into her fist. Fluttered her eyelashes at meprovokingly. "That is a pretty name," she agreed. "You don't mind?" sheasked me.I smiled, and nodded my head. "Of course not Marjorie. May I call youMarjorie?"She simpered at me. "Oh! Absolutely! I hope we will be good friends...Priscilla."How can I put it? To the best of my memory, Mummy never taught me how toact like a girl. But I defy any male. Be made to put on a skirt andblouse over lacy silk. More

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