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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Garden of Allah"

When he saw the women on their
balconies he stopped for a moment and called out to them like a man
beside himself. A Tirailleur pushed him on. The women, who had been
quiet to hear him, burst forth again into a paroxysm of chatter. Irena
looked utterly indifferent and walked feebly. The little procession
disappeared in the moonlight accompanied by the crowd.
"She has stabbed Hadj," Domini said. "Batouch will be glad."
She did not feel as if she were sorry. Indeed, she thought she was glad
too. That the dancer should try to do a thing and fail would have seemed
contradictory. And the streak of blood she had just seen seemed to
relieve her suddenly and to take from her all anger. Her self-control
returned.
"Thank you once more," she said to her companion. "Goodnight."
She remembered the episode of the tower that afternoon, and resolved to
take a definite line this time, and not to run the chance of a second
desertion. She started off down the street, but found him walking beside
her in silence. She stopped.
"I am very much obliged to you for getting me out," she said, looking
straight at him.


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