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"Non! non!" he said, putting his hand over it and shaking his head. De Trevignac started. Ouardi looked at Domini and made a distressed grimace, pointing with a brown finger at the glass. "Oh, Boris! you must drink champagne to-night!" she exclaimed. "I would rather not," he answered. "I am not accustomed to it." "But to drink our guest's health after his escape from death!"
This Monsieur Androvsky might be a very jealous man, who had taken this woman away into the desert to monopolise her, and who resented even the chance intrusion of a stranger. De Trevignac knew life and the strange passions of men, knew that there are Europeans with the Arab temperament, who secretly long that their women should wear the veil and live secluded in the harem.
Monsieur de Trevignac, will you sit here on my right?" They sat down. The two men were opposite to each other at the ends of the small table, with a lamp between them. Domini faced the tent door, and could see in the distance the tents of the attendants lit up by the blaze of the fire, and the forms of the French soldiers sitting at their table close to it, with the Arabs clustering round them.
Androvsky took his hand from the glass and Ouardi filled it with wine. Then Domini raised her glass and drank to De Trevignac. Androvsky followed her example, but without geniality, and when he put his lips to the wine he scarcely tasted it. Then he put the glass down and told Ouardi to give him red wine. And during the rest of the evening he drank no more champagne.
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