“Madame is changed,” he said at length. “Madame looks tired. The sun is hot in the desert now. It is better here in the garden.”
With an effort she controlled herself.
“Yes, Smain,” she answered, “it is better here. But I can not stay here long.”
“You are going away?”
“Yes, I am going away.”
She saw more quiet questions fluttering on his lips, and added:
“And now I want to walk in the garden alone.”
He waved his hand towards the trees.
“It is all for Madame. Monsieur the Count has always said so. But Monsieur?”
“He is in Beni-Mora. He is coming presently to fetch me.”