ed her. It was aristocratic, enchantingly indolent, like the
face of a happy lotus-eater. The great, lustrous eyes were tender as
a gazelle's and thoughtless as the eyes of a sleepy child. His
perfectly-shaped feet were bare on the shining sand. In one hand he held
a large red rose and in the other a half-smoked cigarette.

Domini could not kelp smiling at him as she put her question, and he
smiled contentedly back at her as he answered, in a low, level voice:

"You can go where you will. Shall I show you the paths?"

He lifted his hand and calmly smelt his red rose, keeping his great eyes
fixed upon her. Domini's wish to be alone had left her. This was surely
the geni of the garden, and his company would add to its mystery and
fragrance.

"You need not stay by the door?" she asked.

"No one will come. There is no one in Beni-Mora. And Hassan will stay."

He pointed with his rose to a little tent that was pitched close to the
gate beneath a pepper tree. In it Domini saw a brown boy curled up like
a dog and fast asleep. She began to feel as if she had eaten hashish.
The world seemed made for dreaming.

"Thank you, then."

And now for the first time she looked round to see whether Batouch had
implied the truth. Must the European gardens give way to this Eastern
garden, take a lower place with all their roses?

She stood on a great expanse of newly-raked smooth sand, rising in a
very gentle slope to a gigantic hedge of carefully trimmed evergreens,
which projected at the top, forming a roof and casting a pleasant shade
upon the sand. At intervals white benches were placed under this hedge.
To the right was the villa. She saw now that it was quite small. There
were two lines of windows--on the ground floor and the upper story. The
lower windows opened on to the sand, those above on to a verandah with
a white railing, which was gained by a white staircase outside the house
built beneath the arches of the arcade. The villa was most delicately
simple, but in this riot of blue and gold its ivory cleanliness, set
there upon the shining sand which was warm to the foot, made it look
magical to Domini. She thought she had never known before what spotless
purity was like.

"Those are the bedrooms," murmured the Arab at her side.

"There are only bedrooms?" she asked in surprise.

"The other rooms, the drawing-room of Monsieur the Count, the
dining-room, the smoking-room, the Moorish bath, the room of the little
dog, th