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Updated: June 5, 2025
When he arrived at Djenan-el-Maqui he brought with him, as of old, an infectious atmosphere of enthusiasm. With his iron will he combined a light heart. He had none of the childishness that surprised, and sometimes charmed, in Jacques Sennier, but much that was boyish still pleasantly lingered with him. In him, too, there was something courageous that inspired courage in others.
And Susan Fleet was going at once to Djenan-el-Maqui. "Tell Charmian Heath I'll look in this afternoon with Max, Susan, about tea-time. Don't say anything about the Senniers. They won't come, I'm sure. He says he's going straight to bed directly he reaches the hotel. Charmian would be disappointed. I'll explain to her." These were Mrs.
"Then to-morrow," she said quickly. "Yes, let us go to-morrow." Djenan-el-Maqui proved to be suited to the needs of Charmian and Claude, and it charmed them both by its strangeness and beauty.
In the white Arab house on the hill Claude and Charmian still lived and Claude still worked. To escape the great heat of the previous summer they had gone to England for a time, but early October had found them once more at Djenan-el-Maqui, and since then they had not stirred. Their visit to London had been a strange experience for Charmian.
As they were leaving Djenan-el-Maqui, after Mr. Crayford had had a long drink, and while he was speaking to his chauffeur, who had the bonnet of the car up, Alston Lake whispered to Charmian: "Don't wire to old Claude. Keep it up. You are masterly, quite masterly. Hulloa! anything wrong with the car?" When they buzzed away Charmian stood for a moment in the drive till silence fell.
"And I felt it was necessary to you, to your talent. How could I feel that without ever hearing your music? I did." "Don't I seem to belong to Djenan-el-Maqui?" "I've never seen you there," she answered, with a deliberate evasiveness. Claude looked at her for a moment, then looked away over the immense view. It seemed to him that this woman was beginning to understand him too well, perhaps.
"No don't let us think of London. And yet I suppose you loved it in that little house of yours?" "I think I did." "Don't you ever regret that little house?" She saw his eyebrows move downward. "Oh, I I'm very fond of Djenan-el-Maqui." "And no wonder! Only you seemed so much a part of your London home. You seemed to belong to it. There was an odd little sense of mystery." "Was there?"
But no doubt they preserved complexions from the destructive influence of the sun. Jacques Sennier had told his friends and his wife the story of his days of desertion. A name summed it up, Djenan-el-Maqui.
This recognition on her part of the small place she had held, even as merely a charming girl, in this society, made Charmian think of Djenan-el-Maqui with a stronger affection, but also made her long in a new, and more ruthless way, to triumph in London, as clever wives of great celebrities triumph. She saw Madame Sennier several times, as usual surrounded and fêted.
Although he could be hard and business-like, he could also be affectionate and eager. Now that Claude had given in to him he became almost paternal. He was a sort of "Padre eterno" in Djenan-el-Maqui, and he thoroughly enjoyed his position.
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