At last,
after a night, not too comfortable, spent in a dismal bordj, they came
to a wilderness which any fairytale-teller would have called the end of
the world. The road had dwindled to a track across gloomy desert, all
the more desolate, somehow, because of the dry asparto grass growing
thinly among stones. Nothing seemed to live or move in this world,
except a lizard that whisked its grey-green length across the road, a
long-legged bird which hopped gloomily out of the way, or a few ragged
black and white sheep with nobody to drive them. In the heat of the day
nothing stirred, not even the air, though the distance shimmered and
trembled with heat; but towards night jackals padded lithely from one
rock shelter to another. The carriage drove through a vast plain, rimmed
with far-away mountains, red as porphyry, but fading to purple at the
horizon. Victoria felt that she would never come to the end of this
plain, that it must finish only with eternity; and she wished in an
occasional burst of impatience that she were travelling in Nevill
Caird's motor-car. She could reach her sister in a third of the time!
She told herself that these thoughts were ungrateful to Maieddine, who
was doing so much for her sake, and she kept up her spirits whether they
dragged on tediously, or stopped by the way to eat, or to let M'Barka
rest. She tried to control her restlessness, but feared that Maieddine
saw it, for he took pains to explain, more than once, how necessary was
the detour they were making.
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