“Well, Madame?” said Batouch. “Have I spoken the truth?”
“Yes. No European garden can be so beautiful as that. Now I am going straight home.”
She smiled to herself as she said the last word.
Outside the hotel they found Hadj looking ferocious. He exchanged some words with Batouch, accompanying them with violent gestures. When he had finished speaking he spat upon the ground.
“What is the matter with him?” Domini asked.
“The Monsieur who is staying here would not take him to-day, but went into the desert alone. Hadj wishes that the nomads may cut his throat, and that his flesh may be eaten by jackals. Hadj is sure that he is a bad man and will come to a bad end.”
“Because he does not want a guide every day! But neither shall I.”
“Madame is quite different. I would give my life for Madame.”
“Don’t do that, but go this afternoon and find me a horse. I don’t want a quiet one, but something with devil, something that a Spahi would like to ride.”
The desert spirits were speaking to her body as well as to her mind. A physical audacity was stirring in her, and she longed to give it vent.