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Updated: May 19, 2025
Green darkness closed in upon them and the sand beneath their feet looked blanched. The sense of mystery increased, for the trees were enormous and grew densely here. Pine needles lay upon the ground, and there was a stirring of sudden wind far up above their heads in the tree-tops. "This is the part of the garden that Monsieur the Count loves," said Smain. "He comes here every day."
Hearing his name Androvsky turned, and the Count at once made his excuses to him and followed Smain towards the garden gate, carrying the letter that had come from Beni-Hassan in his hand. When he had gone Domini remained on the divan, and Androvsky by the door, with his eyes on the ground. She took another cigarette from the box on the table beside her, struck a match and lit it carefully.
As she did so, Smain, unfolding for an instant his burnous, pressed into her hands his mass of roses. She thanked him with a smile he scarcely saw and a word that was borne away upon the wind. At Larbi's lips she saw the little flute and his thick fingers fluttering upon the holes. She knew that he was playing his love-song for her, but she could not hear it except in her heart.
When he saw her he smiled quietly, with no surprise. "Madame has returned?" Domini smiled at him, but her lips were trembling, and she said nothing. Smain observed her with a dawning of curiosity. "Madame is changed," he said at length. "Madame looks tired. The sun is hot in the desert now. It is better here in the garden." With an effort she controlled herself.
"Larbi must be in there," Domini whispered to Smain, as a person whispers in a church. "No, he is among the trees beyond." "But someone is there." She pointed to the arched window-space nearest to them. A thin spiral of blue-grey smoke curled through it and evaporated into the shadows of the trees. After a moment it was followed gently and deliberately by another. "It is not Larbi.
There are moments when Open the gate, Smain!" His ardour was infectious and Domini felt stirred by it to a sudden sense of the joy of life. She looked at Androvsky, to include him in the rigour of gaiety which swept from the Count to her, and found him staring apprehensively at the Count, who was now loosening the string of the bag. Smain had reached the gate.
"She could not live shut up in a room. She could not wear the veil for Hadj." "But then ?" "She has divorced him, Madame. It is easy here. For a few francs one can " The whistle sounded. The train jerked. Batouch seized her hand, seized Androvsky's, sprang back to the platform. "Good-bye, Batouch! Good-bye, Ouardi! Good-bye, Smain!" The train moved on.
His restless demeanour and lowering expression destroyed all sense of calm and leisure. Count Anteoni looked after him, and then at Domini, with a sort of playful surprise. He was going to speak, but before the words came Smain appeared, carrying reverently a large envelope covered with Arab writing. "Will you excuse me for a moment?" the Count said. "Of course."
In a moment he was on our side of the earth wall, and talking busily, staring at me the while with unabashed curiosity. For few strangers come to Sidi-Amrane, and Smaïn had never wandered far. "What does he say?" I asked of Safti. "I tell him we shall be at Touggourt tomorrow night, and shall stay there a week. He answers that his heart is there with Oreïda." "What!
In the twinkling of an eye the sand was cleared and Smain had his hand upon the door to shut it. But the Diviner stopped him with a gesture, and in a fawning yet imperious voice called out something to the Count. The Count turned to Domini. "This is an interesting fellow. Would you like to know him?" Her mind said no, yet her body assented. For she bowed her head. The Count beckoned.
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