That sounds a
little rude? But you would not be in Beni-Mora at this season, Madame,
if it could include you."
"I have come here for peace," Domini replied simply.
She said it because she felt as if it was already understood by her
companion.
Count Anteoni took down his arm from the white wall and pulled a branch
of the purple flowers slowly towards him through the doorway.
"There is peace--what is generally called so, at least--in Beni-Mora,"
he answered rather slowly and meditatively. "That is to say, there is
similarity of day with day, night with night. The sun shines untiringly
over the desert, and the desert always hints at peace."
He let the flowers go, and they sprang softly back, and hung quivering
in the space beyond his thin figure. Then he added:
"Perhaps one should not say more than that."
"No."
Domini sat down for a moment. She looked up at him with her direct eyes
and at the shaking flowers. The sound of Larbi's flute was always in her
ears.
"But may not one think, feel a little more?" she asked.
"Oh, why not? If one can, if one must? But how? Africa is as fierce and
full of meaning as a furnace, you know.
Pages:
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139