"Ouardi! that means born in the time of the roses." He addressed Ouardi
in Arabic and sent him off into the darkness chuckling gaily. "These
Arab names all have their meanings--Onlagareb, mother of scorpions,
Omteoni, mother of eagles, and so on. So much the better! Comforts are
rare here, but you carry them with you. Sugar, if you please."
Domini put two lumps into his cup.
"If you allow me!"
He added two more.
"I never refuse a good cigar. These harmless joys are excellent for
man. They help his Christianity. They keep him from bitterness, harsh
judgments. But harshness is for northern climes--rainy England, eh?
Forgive me, Madame. I speak in joke. You come from England perhaps. It
didn't occur to me that--"
They both laughed. His garrulity was irresistible and made Domini feel
as if she were sitting with a child. Perhaps he caught her feeling, for
he added:
"The desert has made me an _enfant terrible_, I fear. What have you
there?"
His eyes had been attracted by the flask of liqueur, to which Domini was
stretching out her hand with the intention of giving him some.
"I don't know.
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