“Then you do believe in that man—Aloui?”
“Do you?”
“I can only say that it seemed to me as if it might be divination. If I had not felt that I should not have stopped it. I should have treated it as a game.”
“It impressed you as it impresses me. Well, for both of us the desert has gifts. Let us accept them fearlessly. It is the will of Allah.”
She remembered her vision of the pale procession. Would she walk in it at last?
“You are as fatalistic as an Arab,” she said.
“And you?”
“I!” she answered simply. “I believe that I am in the hands of God, and I know that perfect love can never harm me.”
After a moment he said, gently:
“Miss Enfilden, I want to ask something of you.”