understanding and her proud eyes dropped to the hands clenched in her
lap.

"I want to marry, Mother of mine." He spoke in the Arabian tongue,
which, is so atune to love, "for behold love in the space of an hour
has grown within me. The floods of love drown me, the full-blossomed
trees of passion throw their shade upon the surging waters, and,
behold, the shade is that of tenderness. From the midst of the flood
where I am like to drown, I stretch my arms towards the rocky shore
where stands, looking towards me, the desire of my soul. Behold, my
eyes have seen her, and, behold, she is white, with hair like the
desert at sunset, and eyes even as the pools of Lebanon. She is as a
rod to be bent, and as a vase of perfume to be broken upon a night of
love. And I love her--her--out of all women--a doe to be hunted at
dawn, a mare to be spurred through the watches of the night------"

"Hugh!"

"I love her as my father loved you--my father, of whom I am the eldest
son--son of a highborn father, son of a highborn
mother--outcast--outcast!"

"For pity's sake, Hugh, stop!"

But the storm swept on, tearing the veil from the woman's eyes.

"Behold, I care not for the plucking of garden blossoms, therefore are
the beautiful, docile women of the East not for me, and the thorns upon
the hedge of convention defied, the barbed wires of racial distinction
keep me from the hedgerow flower, born of the wind and the sky and the