“Ardjan!” cried Dalima sadly, “Ardjan is a convict, he has run away, Allah only knows where he is and what he is about. Moreover, I am no longer his betrothed. To him I am nothing more than a poor fallen girl!”
Both again were silent for some time, each absorbed in her own thoughts. Anna was sorry that she had touched so sensitive a chord; but it was Dalima who continued:
“But even if it were so, if the young judge really were on your track—”
“Oh! don’t speak so,” cried Anna, “the very thought fills me with terror. If I could think that possible I would start off at once.”
“But what can you have against him?” persisted the baboe.
“No more of this, Dalima!”
“Have you ceased to love him then? Have you cast him out of your heart?”
“Don’t speak so!” cried Anna in the greatest excitement; “not love him? Oh! if that were true! Cast him out of my heart! Not a day, not an hour, not a minute passes without my thinking of him!”
“Well then,” continued the simple Javanese girl, “why be so cruel?”
“Be silent, Dalima!”