“The desert is making me abominably natural,” she thought.
At this moment the black figure of Father Roubier came out of the shadows of the trees with Bous-Bous trotting importantly beside it.
“Ah, Father,” said Count Anteoni, going to meet him, while Domini got up from her chair, “it is good of you to come out in the sun to eat fish with such a bad parishioner as I am. Your little companion is welcome.”
He patted Bous-Bous, who took little notice of him.
“You know Miss Enfilden, I think?” continued the Count.
“Father Roubier and I meet every day,” said Domini, smiling.
“Mademoiselle has been good enough to take a kind interest in the humble work of the Church in Beni-Mora,” said the priest with the serious simplicity characteristic of him.
He was a sincere man, utterly without pretension, and, as such men often are, quietly at home with anybody of whatever class or creed.
“I must go to the garden gate,” Domini said. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”
“To meet Monsieur Androvsky? Let us accompany you if Father Roubier—”