It was evident that he felt that his presence was
unwelcome.
"I have a headache," Androvsky said. "I--that is why I returned."
He dropped the priest's hand. He was again looking towards the table.
"The sun was unusually fierce to-day," Domini said. "Do you think--"
"Yes, yes," he interrupted. "That's it. I must have had a touch of the
sun."
He put his hand to his head.
"Excuse me, Monsieur," he said, speaking to the priest but not looking
at him. "I am really feeling unwell. Another day--"
He went out of the tent and disappeared silently into the darkness.
Domini and the priest looked after him. Then the priest, with an air of
embarrassment, took up his hat from the table. His cigar had gone out,
but he pulled at it as if he thought it was still alight, then took it
out of his mouth and, glancing with a naive regret at the good things
upon the table, his half-finished coffee, the biscuits, the white box of
bon-bons--said:
"Madame, I must be off. I've a good way to go, and it's getting late. If
you will allow me--"
He went to the tent door and called, in a powerful voice:
"Belgassem! Belgassem!"
He paused, then called again:
"Belgassem!"
A light travelled over the sand from the farther tents of the servants.
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