how his splendid neck swelled as the red deer's in November, how
the dark eyes blazed upon her.

"Come to me," he commanded, and she flew to his arms as the
love-bird flies upward to her mate in the pomegranate tree.




CHAPTER III


For three months Hamilton and Saidie lived in the white bungalow in
the palms, and drank of the wine of life together, and were happy
in the overwhelming intoxication it gives.

For three months Saidie lived there, never going beyond the
precincts of the house and the palace of flowers that was the
compound.

Why should she leave them? What had she to gain by going out into
the dusty way? What had she to seek? Her garden of Eden, her
Paradise, was here. She was too wise to go beyond its limits.

Pedlars and merchants of all sorts brought their best and richest
wares to her, and Hamilton sat by her in the verandah, commanding
her to buy all that pleased her, though she protested she needed
nothing.

Jewels for her neck, and gold anklets and bracelets, and robes and