“Woman!  O! woman!  The touch of your hand is like the first breeze after the scorching heat of the day, and yet must I await your word before the love that consumes me may throw aside its coverings to stand in the perfumed freshness of the wind which maketh the delight of the desert dawn.

“Together we have watched the goings out of the caravans on their way to Cairo, laden with gifts and all that is necessary for the feasting of those who are invited to attend the marriage of one who, by the wonder of Allah’s bounty, has been allowed to gather the glory of his harvest.  In your graciousness you have troubled your heart with misgivings as to the outcome of a marriage between a Mohammedan and a Christian, and I have answered you that there are many such marriages in the East, of which great happiness has been the outcome, though not such happiness as shall well forth from the union of our love.”

And the man rose to his feet, standing straight as a pine against the fretted wood-work of the balcony, and the girl watching him from under the half-closed lids, suddenly tearing the veil from before her face, sprang also to her feet, and stood against him with her face upraised, so that the glory of her red mouth came to the level of his shoulder, and the thudding of her heart caused the diamonds on the embroidery of her vest to flash in the starlight, and the perfume of her skin to scent the night air.

And the man bent down until it seemed that their lips must meet in this their first kiss, but instead he withdrew one pace, though the agony of love drew all blood from his face, until it shone palely in the gloom.

“Yea, woman, you love me, else would not your eyes be suffused with the pain of unsatisfied longing!  Yet have I not said that until you come to me, and whisper, ‘Hahmed, I love you!’ until that moment I will not in love touch even the fairness of your hand, though as Allah is above us it taxes my strength to the uttermost shred.

“Perchance I am foolish, missing the untold and unknown delights of wooing the woman of my heart, but in such wise am I built.  I will have all the fruit at the plucking or none, for where is the delight of the sweetest peach if the stem, the leaves, the bloom have been bruised by much handling.

“One day, nay in the stillness of one night shall I hear you call me—­then, ah!  Allah!”

The voice stopped suddenly, though the man made no other sign, when the girl before him, beside herself with anger which springs from love denied, suddenly struck him full upon the mouth, and then shaking from head to foot, with rage, and love, and fear, broke the deadly silence.

“Nay, man!  In that you are mistaken, for you shall never hear my voice calling you in love.  That may become the woman of your land, but not the woman from the West.  I will marry you, for I will not bring derision upon a man who has treated me with such courtesy and gentleness.  But love!  Nay! better far buy some beautiful Circassian upon our wedding-trip, for surely you shall never hear my voice upraised in love!”