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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Garden of Allah"

"
"But can I live without you, Domini? Can I wake day after day to the
sunshine, and know that I shall never see you again, and go on living?
Can I do that? I don't feel as if it could be. Perhaps, when I have done
my penance, God will have mercy."
"How, Boris?"
"Perhaps He will let me die."
"Let us fix all the thoughts of our hearts on the life in which He
may let us be together once more. Look, Boris, there are lights in the
darkness, there will always be lights."
"I can't see them," he said.
She looked at him and saw that tears were running down his cheeks.
Again, on this last night of companionship, God summoned her to be
strong for him. On the edge of the hill, close to them, she saw a
Moorish temple built of marble, with narrow arches and columns, and
marble seats.
"Let us sit here for a moment, Boris," she said.
He followed her up the marble steps. Two or three times he stumbled, but
she did not give him her hand. They sat down between the slender columns
and looked out over the city, whose blanched domes and minarets were
faintly visible in the night. Androvsky was shaken with sobs.


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