veller's
house beside a well. Behind them their horses were tethered to an
iron ring in the wall. Batouch and Ali were in the court of the house,
talking to the Arab guardian who dwelt there, but their voices were not
audible by the well, and absolute silence reigned, the intense yet
light silence that is in the desert at noontide, when the sun is at
the zenith, when the nomad sleeps under his low-pitched tent, and the
gardeners in the oasis cease even from pretending to work among the
palms. From before the well the ground sank to a plain of pale grey
sand, which stretched away to a village hard in aspect, as if carved out
of bronze and all in one piece. In the centre of it rose a mosque with
a minaret and a number of cupolas, faintly gilded and shining modestly
under the fierce rays of the sun.

At the foot of the village the ground was white with saltpetre, which
resembled a covering of new-fallen snow. To right and left of it were
isolated groups of palms growing in threes and fours, like trees that
had formed themselves into cliques and set careful barriers of sand
between themselves and their despised brethren. Here and there on the
grey sand dark patches showed where nomads had pitched their tents. But
there was no movement of human life. No camels were visible. No guard
dogs barked. The noon held all things in its golden grip.

"Boris!" Domini said, breaking a long silence.

"Yes, Domini?"

He turned towards her on the rug, stretching his long, thin body lazily
as if in supreme physical contentment.

"You know that saying of the Arabs about forgetting everything in the
desert?"

"Yes, Domini, I know it."

"How long shall we stay in this world of forgetfulness?"

He lifted himself up on his elbow quickly, and fixed his eyes on hers.

"How long!"

"Yes."

"But--do you wish to leave it? Are you tired of it?"

There was a note of sharp anxiety in his voice.

"I don't answer such a question," she said, smiling at him.

"Ah, then, why do you try to frighten me?"

She put her hand in his.

"How burnt you are!" she said. "You are like an Arab of the South."

"Let me become more like one. There's health here."

"And peace, perfect peace."

He said nothing. He was looking down now at the sand.

She laid her lips on his warm brown hand.

"There's all I want here," she added.

"Let us stay here."

"But some day we must go back, mustn't we?"

"Why?"

"Can anything be lifelong--even our honey