He gave the reddest particulars . ` Then why -- ? ' Kim paused before a filthy staircase that climbed to the warm darkness of an upper chamber , in the ward that is behind Azim Ullah 's tobacco-shop . Those who know it call it The Birdcage -- it is so full of whisperings and whistlings and chirrupings . The room , with its dirty cushions and half-smoked hookahs , smelt abominably of stale tobacco . In one corner lay a huge and shapeless woman clad in greenish gauzes , and decked , brow , nose , ear , neck , wrist , arm , waist , and ankle with heavy native jewellery . When she turned it was like the clashing of copper pots . A lean cat in the balcony outside the window mewed hungrily . Kim checked , bewildered , at the door-curtain . ` Is that the new stuff , Mahbub ? ' said Huneefa lazily , scarce troubling to remove the mouthpiece from her lips . ' O Buktanoos ! ' -- like most of her kind , she swore by the Djinns -- ' O Buktanoos ! He is very good to look upon . ' ` That is part of the selling of the horse , ' Mahbub explained to Kim , who laughed . ' I have heard that talk since my Sixth Day , ' he replied , squatting by the light . ` Whither does it lead ? ' ` To protection . Tonight we change thy colour . This sleeping under roofs has blanched thee like an almond .
But XXXXX has the secret of a colour that catches .
Birdcage Huneefa Kim Mahbub Whither chirrupings door-curtain hookahs jewellery tobacco-shop