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The Hawk of Egypt by Joan Conquest
page 72 of 316 (22%)
with the soul of her desert lover, or shatter her body, even as is
broken the alabaster vase of sweet perfume. Yet is it the _love of the
soul_ that endureth forever, yea, even if the body of the woman passeth
unto another's keeping."

The girl pulled her veil closely about her head and sat quite still,
her wonderful eyes hidden by the fringe of black lashes.

And yet did she not move when he sprang to his feet, intoxicated with
the mystery of her, afire with that love which is the heritage of the
desert.

Then he bent and caught her by the wrists and raised her to her feet.

"Take the path at thy right hand, woman; set not a foot upon the desert
sand, lest perchance a bird of prey swoop down upon thee, thou white
dove."

He pulled her hands up, holding them cruelly, as in a steel vise, so
that he had but to bend a finger's breadth to kiss them.

"Thy feet hesitate, woman. Why? What searchest thou?"

"Knowledge."

The man unconsciously laced his fingers in hers, crushing them until
she went white to the lips.

"Knowledge is pain, woman. What know'st thou of pain? Great pain.
How could'st thou endure it?"
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