When I think of the dunes they seem to me--they seem--"
Suddenly he stopped. His gay voice was choked. She saw that there were
tears in his blue eyes, which were fixed on her with an expression of
ardent gratitude. He cleared his throat.
"Monsieur," he said to Androvsky, "you will not think me presuming on an
acquaintance formed in the desert if I say that till the end of my life
I--and my men--can only think of Madame as of the good Goddess of the
desolate Sahara!"
He did not know how Androvsky would take this remark, he did not
care. For the moment in his impulsive nature there was room only for
admiration of the woman and, gratitude for her frank kindness. Androvsky
said:
"Thank you, Monsieur."
He spoke with an intensity, even a fervour, that were startling. For
the first time since they had been together his voice was absolutely
natural, his manner was absolutely unconstrained, he showed himself as
he was, a man on fire with love for the woman who had given herself to
him, and who received a warm word of praise of her as a gift made to
himself. De Trevignac no longer wondered that Domini was his wife.
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