But, if it's that, don't be too sad. It may all come right--here in the
desert. For the desert is the Garden of Allah. And, Boris--put out the
light."
He extinguished the candle with his hand.
"You feel, perhaps, that you can't pray honestly now, but some day you
may be able to. You will be able to. I know it. Before I knew I loved
you I saw you--praying in the desert."
"I!" he whispered. "You saw me praying in the desert!"
It seemed to her that he was afraid. She pressed him more closely with
her arms.
"It was that night in the dancing-house. I seemed to see a crowd of
people to whom the desert had given gifts, and to you it had given the
gift of prayer. I saw you far out in the desert praying."
She heard his hard breathing, felt it against her cheek.
"If--if it is that, Boris, don't despair. It may come. Keep the
crucifix. I am sure you have it. And I always pray for you."
They sat for a long while in the dark, but they did not speak again that
night.
Domini did not sleep, and very early in the morning, just as dawn was
beginning, she stole out of the tent, shutting down the canvas flap
behind her.
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