truth。〃
Androvsky released her as abruptly as he had taken her in his arms；
turned； and went out into the desert。
CHAPTER XXIV
True to his promise； on the following day the priest called to inquire
after Androvsky's health。 He happened to come just before /dejeuner/
was ready； and met Androvsky on the sand before the tent door。
〃It's not fever then； Monsieur；〃 he said； after they had shaken hands。
〃No； no；〃 Androvsky replied。 〃I am quite well this morning。〃
The priest looked at him closely with an unembarrassed scrutiny。
〃Have you been long in the desert； Monsieur？〃 he asked。
〃Some weeks。〃
〃The heat has tired you。 I know the look〃
〃I assure you； Monsieur； that I am accustomed to heat。 I have lived in
North Africa all my life。〃
〃Indeed。 And yet by your appearance I should certainly suppose that
you needed a change from the desert。 The air of the Sahara is
magnificent； but there are people〃
〃I am not one of them；〃 Androvsky said abruptly。 〃I have never felt so
strong physically as since I have lived in the sand。〃
The priest still looked at him closely； but said nothing further on
the subject of health。 Indeed； almost immediately his attention was
distracted by the apparition of Ouardi bearing dishes from the cook's
tent。
〃I am afraid I have called at a very unorthodox time；〃 he remarked；
looking at his watch； 〃but the fact is that here in Amara we〃
〃I hope you will stay to /dejeuner/；〃 Androvsky said。
〃It is very good of you。 If you are certain that I shall not put you
out。〃
〃Please stay。〃
〃I will； then； with pleasure。〃
He moved his lips expectantly； as if only a sense of politeness
prevented him from smacking them。 Androvsky went towards the sleeping…
tent； where Domini； who had been into the city； was washing her hands。
〃The priest has called；〃 he said。 〃I have asked him to /dejeuner/。〃
She looked at him with frank astonishment in her dark eyes。
〃YouBoris！〃
〃Yes； I。 Why not？〃
〃I don't know。 But generally you hate people。〃
〃He seems a good sort of man。〃
She still looked at him with some surprise； even with curiosity。
〃Have you taken a fancy to a priest？〃 she asked； smiling。
〃Why not？ This man is very different from Father Roubier； more human。〃
〃Father Beret is very human； I think；〃 she answered。
She was still smiling。 It had just occurred to her that the priest had
timed his visit with some forethought。
〃I am coming；〃 she added。
A sudden cheerfulness had taken possession of her。 All the morning she
had been feeling grave； even almost apprehensive； after a bad night。
When her husband had abruptly left her and gone away into the darkness
she had been overtaken by a sudden wave of acute depression。 She had
felt； more painfully than ever before； the mental separation which
existed between them despite their deep love； and a passionate but
almost hopeless longing had filled her heart that in all things they
might be one； not only in love of each other； but in love of God。 When
Androvsky had taken his arms from her she had seemed to feel herself
released by a great despair； and this certaintyfor as he vanished
into the darkness she was no more in doubt that his love for her left
room within his heart for such an agonyhad for a moment brought her
soul to the dust。 She had been overwhelmed by a sensation that instead
of being close together they were far apart； almost strangers； and a
great bitterness had entered into her。 It was accompanied by a desire
for action。 She longed to follow Androvsky； to lay her hand on his
arm； to stop him in the sand and force him to confide in her。 For the
first time the idea that he was keeping something from her； a sorrow；
almost maddened her； even made her feel jealous。 The fact that she
divined what that sorrow was； or believed she divined it； did not help
her just then。 She waited a long while； but Androvsky did not return；
and at last she prayed and went to bed。 But her prayers were feeble；
disjointed； and sleep did not come to her； for her mind was travelling
with this man who loved her and who yet was out there alone in the
night； who was deliberately separating himself from her。 Towards dawn；
when he stole into the tent； she was still awake； but she did not
speak or give any sign of consciousness； although she was hot with the
fierce desire to spring up； to throw her arms round him； to draw his
head down upon her heart； and say； 〃I have given myself； body； heart
and soul； to you。 Give yourself to me； give me the thing you are
keeping backyour sorrow。 Till I have that I have not all of you。 And
till I have all of you I am in hell。〃
It was a mad impulse。 She resisted it and lay quite still。 And when he
lay down and was quiet she slept at length。
Now； as she heard him speak in the sunshine and knew that he had
offered hospitality to the comfortable priest her heart suddenly felt
lighter； she scarcely knew why。 It seemed to her that she had been a
little morbid； and that the cloud which had settled about her was
lifted； revealing the blue。
At /dejeuner/ she was even more reassured。 Her husband seemed to get
on with the priest better than she had ever seen him get on with
anybody。 He began by making an effort to be agreeable that was obvious
to her； but presently he was agreeable without effort。 The simple
geniality and lack of self…consciousness in Father Beret evidently set
him at his ease。 Once or twice she saw him look at his guest with an
earnest scrutiny that puzzled her； but he talked far more than usual
and with greater animation； discussing the Arabs and listening to the
priest's account of the curiosities of life in Amara。 When at length
Father Beret rose to go Androvsky said he would accompany him a little
way； and they went off together； evidently on the best of terms。
She was delighted and surprised。 She had been right； then。 It was time
that Androvsky was subjected to another influence than that of the
unpeopled wastes。 It was time that he came into contact with men whose
minds were more akin to his than the minds of the Arabs who had been
their only companions。 She began to imagine him with her in civilised
places； to be able to imagine him。 And she was glad they had come to
Amara and confirmed in her resolve to stay on there。 She even began to
wish that the French officers quartered therefew in number； some
five or sixwould find them in the sand； and that Androvsky would
offer them hospitality。 It occurred to her that it was not quite
wholesome for a man to live in isolation from his fellow…men； even
with the woman he loved； and she determined that she would not be
selfish in her love； that she would think for Androvsky； act for him；
even against her own inclination。 Perhaps his idea of life in an oasis
apart from Europeans was one she ought to combat； though it fascinated
her。 Perhaps it would be stronger； more sane； to face a more ordinary；
less dreamy； life； in which they would meet with people； in which they
would inevitably find themselves confronted with duties。 She felt
powerful enough in that moment to do anything that would make for
Androvsky's welfare of soul。 His body was strong and at ease。 She
thought of him going away with the priest in friendly conversation。
How splendid it would be if she could feel some day that the health of
his soul accorded completely with that of his body！
〃Batouch！〃 she called almost gaily。
Batouch appeared； languidly smoking a cigarette； and with a large
flower tied to a twig protending from behind his ear。
〃Saddle the horses。 Monsieur has gone with the Pere Beret。 I shall
take a ride； just a short ride round the camp over therein at the
city gate； through the market…place； and home。 You will come with me。〃
Batouch threw away his cigarette with energy。 Poet though he was； all
the Arab blood in him responded to the thought of a gallop over the
sands。 Within a few minutes they were off。 When she was in the saddle
it was at all times difficult for Domini to be sad or even pensive。
She had a native passion for a good horse； and riding was one of the
joys； and almost the keenest； of her life。 She felt powerful when she
had a spirited； fiery animal under her； and the wide spaces of the
desert summoned speed as they summoned dreams。 She and Batouch went
away at a rapid pace； circled round the Arab cemetery； made a detour
towards the south； and then cantered into the midst of the camps of
the Ouled Nails。 It was the hour of the siesta。 Only a few people were
stirring； coming and going over the dunes to and from the city on
languid errands for the women of the tents； who reclined in the shade
of their brushwood arbours upon filthy cushions and heaps of multi…
coloured rags； smoking cigarettes； playing cards with Arab and negro
admirers； or staring into vacancy beneath their heavy eyebrows as they
listened to the sound of music played upon long pipes of reed。 No dogs
barked in their camp。 The only guardians were old women； whose sandy
faces were scored with innumerable wrinkles； and whose withered hands
drooped under their loads of barbaric rings and bracelets。 Batouch
would evidently have liked to dismount here。 Like all Arabs he was
fasci