ABSTRACT
I HAD NOT shaved since the day I left Aden; if my beard was a little straggly, I at least had a firm moustache, and with my skin blackened in the sun, I felt that if I did not wash for the next few days I might pass as a typical Nejdi Arab. The wearing offtowing robes gives a man a curious enveloping dignity, and a long head-cloth, combined with cool, empty sleeves and a voluminous white garment, turned me into a son of the desert.
