" Maieddine glanced to the left, as if he could see a dark
figure writing on a slate. Things concerning Victoria must have been
written on that slate, plans he had made, of which neither his white
angel nor hers would approve. But, he told himself, if they had to be
carried out, she would be to blame, for driving him to extremes. "Whilst
thou art near me," he said aloud, "my black angel lags behind, and if
thou wert to be with me forever, I----"
"Since that cannot be, thou must find a better way to keep him in the
background," Victoria broke in lightly. But Si Maieddine's compliments
were oppressive. She wished it were not the Arab way to pay so many. He
had been different at first; and feeling the change in him with a faint
stirring of uneasiness, she hurried her steps to join M'Barka.
The invalid reclined on a rug of golden jackal skins, and rested a thin
elbow on cushions of dyed leather, braided in intricate strips by
Touareg women. Victoria sat beside her, Maieddine opposite, and Fafann
waited upon them as they ate.
After supper, while the Bedouin woman saw that everything was ready for
her mistress and the Roumia, in their tent, M'Barka spread out her
precious sand from Mecca and the dunes round her own Touggourt. She had
it tied up in green silk, such as is used for the turbans of men who
have visited Mecca, lined with a very old Arab brocade, purple and gold,
like the banners that drape the tombs of marabouts.
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