"
"I think of thee before all the world. Thou art my world. I had meant to
wait till thou wert in thy sister's arms; but since the night when I saw
thee dance, my love grew as a fire grows that feeds upon rezin. If I
offend thee, thou alone art to blame. Thou wert too beautiful that
night. I have been mad since then. And now thou must give me thy word
that thou wilt marry me according to the law of Islam. Afterwards, when
we can find a priest of thine own religion, we will stand before him."
"Let my hand go, Si Maieddine, if thou wishest me to talk further with
thee," Victoria said.
He smiled at her and obeyed; for he knew that she could not escape from
him, therefore he would humour her a little. In a few more moments he
meant to have her in his arms again.
His smile gave the girl no hope. She thought of Zorah and the court of
the oranges.
"What wilt thou do if I say I will not be thy wife?" she asked, in a
quiet voice; but there was a fluttering in her throat.
A spark lit in his eyes. The moon was rising now, as the sun set, and
the two lights, silver and rose, touched his face, giving it an unreal
look, as if he were a statue of bronze which had "come alive," Victoria
thought, just as she had "come alive" in her statue-dance. He had never
been so handsome, but his dark splendour was dreadful to her, for he did
not seem like a human man whose heart could be moved to mercy.
For an instant he gave her no answer, but his eyes did not leave hers.
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