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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Garden of Allah"


"Domini!"
"Domini, did you hear me? Domini! Domini!"
She felt his hands on her wrists.
"You are the Trappist!" she said quietly, "of whom the priest told me.
You are the monk from the Monastery of El-Largani who disappeared after
twenty years."
"Yes," he said, "I am he."
"What made you tell me? What made you tell me?"
There was agony now in her voice.
"You asked me to speak, but it was not that. Do you remember last night
when I said that God must bless you? You answered, 'He has blessed me.
He has given me you, your love, your truth.' It is that which makes me
speak. You have had my love, not my truth. Now take my truth. I've kept
it from you. Now I'll give it you. It's black, but I'll give it you.
Domini! Domini! Hate me to-night, but in your hatred believe that I
never loved you as I love you now."
"Give me your truth," she said.


BOOK V. THE REVELATION

CHAPTER XXVI
They remained standing at the tent door, with the growing moonlight
about them. The camp was hushed in sleep, but sounds of music still came
to them from the city below them, and fainter music from the tents of
the Ouled Nails on the sandhill to the south.


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