“How could—what could there be that was horrible connected with that?” he asked, speaking slowly.
“It was made by a monk, a Trappist—”
He got up from his chair and went to the opening of the tent.
“What—” she began, thinking he was perhaps feeling the pain in his head more severely.
“I only want to be in the air. It’s rather hot there. Stay where, you are, Domini, and—well, what else?”
He stepped out into the sand, and stood just outside the tent in its shadow.
“It was invented by a Trappist monk of the monastery of El-Largani, who disappeared from the monastery. He had taken the final vows. He had been there for over twenty years.”
“He—he disappeared—did the priest say?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”