That she would not in her present state have shrunk or flinched from a knife, if only his hand held it while it wounded her, he knew quite well, and this wonderful voluntary self-sacrifice which is the soul of all female passion appealed to him as a very holy thing.

He knew that constantly this adoring love was poured out by women for men, that almost every virgin heart beats with this same worship as the first pain of love enters it, but ah! for how short a time!  How quickly the man tears open those eyes that would so willingly be closed to his vileness! how soon come the infidelity, the lies and the meanness, the trickery and the treachery!  How assiduously the man teaches the woman who loves him that there is nothing in him worthy of adoration, not even admiration, not even decent respect!  How little confidence, how little credence she soon gives to his word that was once so sacred to her!  How in her heart, though her lips say nothing, is that once rapturous worship changed into a measureless contempt!

Men persistently teach women that they must not expect the best from them, but the lowest.  And the women cry in pain as they see the white mantle of their love trampled upon and dragged in the mire of lies and falseness, and they take it back from the base hands and burn it in the fires kindled in their outraged hearts.  Something of this flashed through Hamilton’s brain as he met the adoring trust and love in the girl’s eyes, and an unspoken vow formed itself within him that he would not deceive and betray it, that his lips should not lie to her, that to the end he would be to her as she now saw him in the glamour of those first hours.

When he had tempted her to every sweet and bon-bon on the table, and made her drink all the wine he thought good for her, he sent the servants away, and they remained alone together in the dining-room with their coffee before them.  He put his arm round her, and drawing her out of her own chair, took her on to his knees and pressed her head down on his shoulder.

“Are you not tired with that long ride on the camel?” he asked.

“No, Sahib, I am not tired.”

The soft weight of her body pressed upon him; her lids drooped over her eyes as her head leaned against his neck.

“I think you are tired and very sleepy,” he repeated, pinching the glowing arm in its transparent muslin sleeve.

“If the Sahib says so, I must be,” responded Saidie quite simply.

“Come, then, and sleep,” he said in her ear, and they went upstairs.

Saidie gave a little cry of delight as they entered together the rose-filled room, and beyond its soft shaded lights she saw the great flashing planets in the dark sky.

“This is a different and a better home for love than we had last night,” said Hamilton softly, as he closed the door.

A great peace reigned all round them.  Within and without the bungalow there was no sound.  The lights burned steadily and subdued, the sweet scent of the flowers hung in the air like a silent benediction upon them.