white house, enclosed behind a tall wrought iron fence . It was built high on the hillside where below distant buildings clustered, smaller, but of the same brilliant white.
"Oh, the fun I've had here!" Belda exclaimed . "She was such dear! See this ring I wear." Belda held up her hand . Every eye in the bus locked on the massive jewel, a glowing greenish blue, surrounded by diamonds . "I bought this from Barbara Hutton's personal collection! It's insured for $86,000 , but it's worth more like $150,000 ."
Automatically Noa's gaze settled on Cathy . The girl sat forward in her chair as if the announcement had roused her from deep apathy . She was not aware of Noa's watching her . Her eyes did not leave the enormous emerald.
Marie little escaped her frowned sharply at Belda's announcement or at what she judged to be the stupidity of it . A shadow appeared across Marie's face . Noa couldn't tell whether it was motivated by concern for Belda or by envy.
Greg watched the ring with the same awe as the girls from St. Theresa’s . Moulay, however, reacted in a way that frightened Noa . His eyes, ordinarily narrow and evasive, widened at sight of such wealth, causing expanses of white to show around the black pupils, giving him a look of jungle like fierceness .
"Isn't my ring the most precious thing!" Belda still held the ring out to Moulay.
"Shh , they'll think you're bragging," said Milton.
"Oh, I am proud of this!" She pointed with the jeweled finger, "And the fact that I stayed overnight in that very bedroom . See, the top floor, third window."
"Let me get your picture here," Milton said . "It's all right if we get out, isn't it?"
Noa, the last to leave the bus, said to Taber, "After what happened last night, I wish she wouldn't have flashed that big jewel around."
"No one on this bus had anything to do with the stolen money," Taber answered . "But, I agree, she shouldn't have brought along such expensive jewelry."
* * *
Noa's heart sank as the battered wall that led to the medina came into view . Flashes of childhood terror came back to her shadowy images of twisting paths, foreign voices, endless openings, growing fearfully blacker with descending darkness.
No vehicles could enter the old city . Occasionally a peddler on a donkey would go through the arched gate . Failing to catch the high spirits of the Wards, Noa followed the others from the bus.
"This is the most exciting part of Morocco!" Belda cried.
"It's a long, hot walk from here." Taber caught up with Noa, strong fingers tightening on her arm . "You could let me take the group through and go back to the hotel . You look a little tired."
"And miss your lectures!" Noa, trying to be realistic, used a sort of self derision in dealing with the feeling of sickness that was forming in her stomach.
"Then you bring up the rear and make sure no one gets lost," Taber said . He pushed forward . Soon he held up his hand to stop the small group and point out an ancient mosque with its towering minaret.
"I want to go in one," said Cathy.
"I'm afraid we can't do that . Women, even Moslems, are never allowed to enter the mosques."
"What's fair about that?" Cathy demanded loudly . "I don't like this place already!" She turned to address the seven girls . "We should just demand to go in!"
"Change takes place very slowly," Taber said, giving Cathy an amused glance, "And we are guests . We must be good guests."
As they proceeded, more and more often Cathy and Belda Ward began dropping far behind, Belda, to admire the rugs, Cathy, to attract the attention of the rows of salesmen .
"You'd better keep up with the group," Marie Landos joined Noa in advising.
Cathy gave her the same cold look she usually reserved for Noa.
Marie commented, her voice brittle, "At St. Theresa’s we teach our girls courtesy."
"I'm not studying to be a nun."
"Neither are we," ventured one of the quiet girls Marie called Orva.
"You might as well be," Cathy shot back.
"I see you intend to
Learning to Kill: Stories