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Show "But madame does not care to see the desert?" At this moment he noticed that Lady Wyverne's blue eyes had travelled away from his face and were gazing at something behind him. He turned, and saw a train of camels and nomads stealing by the inn on their way to the desert. Noiselessly they padded on the narrow thread of road. The nomads were muffled in ragged hoods and fluttering cloaks, and carried clubs. With their birdlike staring before them, they passed phantoms into the shadows of the gorge. Their appearance and disap ·pearance woke up in Lady Wyverne vague sense of romance and mystery, a longing to follow these strange men and their beasts into the silver world which lay beyond the shadows. She slipped across the veranda and peeped into Sir Claude's room. He was snoring bravely. " Dreaming of Barbary sheep !" murmured Lady Wyverne. " If only Crumpet were a little bit moreh'm!" She sighed, caught up a cloak, and went softly down-stairs. The Spahi met her in the courtyard. The impudence of his demeanor had vanished, and he bowed with a ceremonious gravity which surprised Lady Wyverne, who was unaccustomed to the rapid and complete changes of manner so common among Orientals. "Will not monsieur come, too?" he asked, simply. "Monsieur!" Lady Wyverne looked into his great eyes with a staring amazement. "Monsieur is asleep,'' she added, recovering herself. "So early!" There was the least hint of sarcasm in his voice. 27 |