“But He has blessed me,” she whispered, through tears that rushed from her eyes, stirred from their well-springs by his sudden outburst of love for her. “He has blessed me. He has given me you, your love, your truth.”
Androvsky released her as abruptly as he had taken her in his arms, turned, and went out into the desert.
CHAPTER XXIV
True to his promise, on the following day the priest called to inquire after Androvsky’s health. He happened to come just before dejeuner was ready, and met Androvsky on the sand before the tent door.
“It’s not fever then, Monsieur,” he said, after they had shaken hands.
“No, no,” Androvsky replied. “I am quite well this morning.”
The priest looked at him closely with an unembarrassed scrutiny.
“Have you been long in the desert, Monsieur?” he asked.
“Some weeks.”
“The heat has tired you. I know the look—”