This exquisite building had been built for her, horses were hers, and camels; jewels were literally flung at her feet.
She clapped her hands and soft-footed natives ran to do her bidding, flowers and fruit came daily from the oasis, sweetmeats and books each day from the nearest city. Her smallest whim, even to the mere passing of a shadow of a wish, was fulfilled, and yet———
A few months ago her mocking words had swung to the silken curtains of her chamber, and since then she had been alone.
Verily, there were no restrictions and no barriers, but the yellow sand stretched away to the East and away to the West, and obedience in the oasis was bred from love and her twin sister fear.
True, the girl had but to bid the Arab to her presence and the curtain would swing back.
But upon the threshold he would stand, or upon the floor he would seat himself, motionless, with a face as expressionless as stone.
By no movement, word or sign, could she find out if she was any more to him than the wooden beads which ceaselessly passed between his fingers.
Nothing showed her if he remembered the first night, when for a moment the man had broken through the inherited reserve of centuries. Had it been merely the East clamouring for the out-of-reach, longed-for West? Perhaps! Just a passing moment, as quickly forgotten, and against which forgetfulness the woman in her rebelled.
It had even come to her to lie awake during the night following the days in which the man had been away from his beloved oasis. The swift rush of naked feet, taking her as swiftly to the roof, where peeping between the carved marble she would look upon a distant scene, which could well have illustrated some Eastern fable.
Either the great camel would stalk slowly, solemnly out of the night, kneeling at a word; or a pure bred Arabian horse would rush swiftly through the palm belt, its speed unchecked as its master threw himself from the saddle.