The Washington times., 1922-07-04

same thought - tortured her-he
had not taken her for love. No
higher motive than a passing
fancy had stirred him. He had
seen her, had wished for her and
had taken her, and once In his
power II had amused him to
break her to his hand. She
realized all that. And he had
been honest. he had never PEE
tended to love her. Often when
the humor took him he could be
gentle. as in those last few
weeks, but gentleness was no.
love. and she had never seen
the light that she longed for
kindle in his eyes. His caresses
had been passionate or careless
with his mood. She did not
know that he loved her. She
had not been with him during
the long hours OF his delirium and
she had not heard what Raoul de
Saint Hubert had heard And
since his recovery his attitude Of
aloofness had augmented her
fear. There seemed only one con.
struction to put on his silence,
and his studied and obvious
avoidance OF ner. The passing
fancy had passed. 1t was as IL
the fleeing passion he had had
for her had been drained from
him with the blood that flowed
from the terrible wound he had
received He was tired OF her
and seeking for means to dis
embarrass himself OF her. Vague
ly. she felt that she had known
this for weeks, but tonight was
the first time that she had had
courage to be frank with herself.
II must be 80. Everything point
ed TO II; the curious expression
she had seen in his eyes and his
constant heavy frown all con.
hrmed II. She flung her arm
across her eyes with little
moan. He was tired OF her and
the bottom haIi fallen out Of her
world. The instinct to fight for
his love that had been 80 strong
in her the day that Ibraheim
OMAR had captured her had died
with the death OF all her hopes.
Her spirit was broken. She knew
that her will was helpless against
his. and with a fatalism that she
had learned in the desert she ac.
cepted the inevitable with
crushed feeling OF hopelessress.
She wondered numbly what
would become OF her. 1t did
not seem TO matter much
Nothing mattered now that
he did not want her any more The
old life was far away. in another
world. She could never go back to
il. She did not care. Ii was moth.
ing to her. II was only here in a
desert, in Ahmed Ben Hassans
arms. that she had become alive,
that she had learned what life
really meant. that she had walked
both TO happiness and sorrow.
The future stretched out blank
and menacinG before her. but she
turned from IL with a great sob
Of despair. 1t was on him that her
thoughts were fixed. How would
life be endurable without him?
Duly she wondered why she did
not hate him for having done to
her what he had done, for having
made her what she was. But moth.
ing that he could do could kill the
love now that he had inspired. And
she would never regret. She would
always have the memory of the
fleeting happiness that had been
hers-in after years that memory
would be all that she would have
to live for. Even in her heart she
did not reproach him, there was no
bitterness in her misery. She had
had had the promise of a child.
always known that IL would come.
though she had fenced with II.
shutting 1t out of her mind reso.
lutely. He had never led her to ex.
pect anything else. There was no
link to bring them closer together.
no bond between them. II she could
Alone though she was the sensi-
tive color famed into her cheeks,
and she hid her face in the pillows
with a quivering sob. A child that
would be his and hers. a child-a
boy with the same PASSIONATE dark
eyes, the same crisp brown hair.
the same graceful body. who would
grow up as tall and strong. as
brave and fearless as his. father.
Surely he must love her then.
Surely the memory Of his own
mothers tragic history would
make him merciful to the mother
of his son. But she had no hone