She could not bear the idea that her thoughts and
life were open to the criticism of those young, blue eyes, which the
years since childhood had not clouded. Nevertheless, when Noura had
undressed her, and she was alone, she saw Victoria's eyes looking at her
sweetly, sadly, with yearning, yet with no reproach. She saw them as
clearly as she had seen a man's face, a few hours earlier; and now his
was dim, as Victoria's face had been dim when his was clear.
It was dark in the room, except for the moon-rays which streamed through
the lacelike open-work of stucco, above the shuttered windows, making
jewelled patterns on the wall--pink, green, and golden, according to the
different colours of the glass. There was just enough light to reflect
these patterns faintly in the mirrors set in the closed door, opposite
which Saidee lay in bed; and to her imagination it was as if she could
see through the door, into a lighted place beyond. She wondered if
Victoria had gone to bed; if she were sleeping, or if she were crying
softly--crying her heart out with bitter grief and disappointment she
would never confess.
Victoria had always been like that, even as a little girl. If Saidee did
anything to hurt her, she made no moan. Sometimes Saidee had teased her
on purpose, or tried to make her jealous, just for fun.
As memories came crowding back, the woman buried her face in the pillow,
striving with all her might to shut them out.
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