is moment the soft thud of horse's hoofs was
audible on the road and Domini came cantering back to the hotel. Her
eyes were sparkling, her face was radiant. She bowed to the priest and
reined up before the hotel door, where Androvsky was standing.

"I'll buy him," she said to Batouch, who swelled with satisfaction at
the thought of his commission. "And I'll go for a long ride now--out
into the desert."

"You will not go alone, Madame?"

It was the priest's voice. She smiled down at him gaily.

"Should I be carried off by nomads, Monsieur?"

"It would not be safe for a lady, believe me."

Batouch swept forward to reassure the priest. "I am Madame's guide.
I have a horse ready saddled to accompany Madame. I have sent for it
already, M'sieur."

One of the little Arab boys was indeed visible running with all his
might towards the Rue Berthe. Domini's face suddenly clouded. The
presence of the guide would take all the edge off her pleasure, and in
the short gallop she had just had she had savoured its keenness. She was
alive with desire to be happy.

"I don't need you, Batouch," she said.

But the poet was inexorable, backed up by the priest.

"It is my duty to accompany Madame. I am responsible for her safety."

"Indeed, you cannot go into the desert alone," said the priest.

Domini glanced at Androvsky, who was standing silently under the arcade,
a little withdrawn, looking uncomfortable and self-conscious. She
remembered her thought on the tower of the dice-thrower, and of how the
presence of the stranger had seemed to double her pleasure then. Up
the road from the Rue Berthe came the noise of a galloping horse. The
shoeblack was returning furiously, his bare legs sticking out on either
side of a fiery light chestnut with a streaming mane and tail.

"Monsieur Androvsky," she said.

He started.

"Madame?"

"Will you come with me for a ride into the desert?"

His face was flooded with scarlet, and he came a step forward, looking
up at her.

"I!" he said with an accent of infinite surprise.

"Yes. Will you?"

The chestnut thundered up and was pulled sharply back on its haunches.
Androvsky shot a sideways glance at it and hesitated. Domini thought
he was going to refuse and wished she had not asked him, wished it
passionately.

"Never mind," she said, almost brutally in her vexation at what she had
done.

"Batouch!"

The poet was about to spring upon the horse when Androvsky caught him by
the a