"Surely you would not
refuse hospitality to these poor fellows!"
She put her hand through his arm and pressed it.
"Have I done wrong? But I know I haven't!"
"Wrong! How could you do that?"
He seemed to make an effort, to conquer something within him.
"It's I who am wrong, Domini. The truth is, I can't bear our happiness
to be intruded upon even for a night. I want to be alone with you. This
life of ours in the desert has made me desperately selfish. I want to be
alone, quite alone, with you."
"It's that! How glad I am!"
She laid her cheek against his arm.
"Then," he said, "that other signal?"
"Monsieur de Trevignac gave it."
Androvsky took his arm from hers abruptly.
"Monsieur de Trevignac!" he said. "Monsieur de Trevignac?"
He stood as if in deep and anxious thought.
"Yes, the officer. That's his name. What is it, Boris?"
"Nothing."
There was a sound of voices approaching the camp in the darkness. They
were speaking French.
"I must," said Androvsky, "I must----"
He made an uncertain movement, as if to go towards the dunes, checked
it, and went hurriedly into the dressing-tent.
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