“Towards the city!” he answered. “Why not—?” He glanced behind him to the vacant, noiseless sands.
She set her impulse against his for the first time.
“No, this is our town life, our Sahara season. Let us give ourselves to it. The loneliness will be its antidote some day.”
“Very well, Domini,” he answered.
They went a little way towards the city, and stood still in the sand at the edge of their height.
“Listen, Boris! Isn’t it strange in the night all this barbaric music? It excites me.”
“You are glad to be here.”
She heard the note of disappointment in his voice, but did not respond to it.
“And look at all those fires, hundreds of them in the sand!”
“Yes,” he said, “it is wonderful, but the solitudes are best. This is not the heart of the desert, this is what the Arabs call it, ‘The belly of the Desert.’ In the heart of the desert there is silence.”