willingly obey, whom she would lust
to obey, because of love. The restlessness in her life had been caused
by a lack; she had never yet found the man who could be not her tyrant
for a time, but her master while she lived. Now she prayed for that, the
only peace that she really wanted.

While she prayed she was conscious always of the attitude of the
Bedouin, which suggested the fierce yielding of one who could never be
afraid of the God he worshiped. Nor could she be afraid. For she was
not ashamed of what she was, though she hid what she was from motive of
worldly prudence and for the sake of her motherhood. She believed that
she was born into the world not in order to be severely educated, but in
order that she might live to the uttermost, according to the dictates of
her temperament. Now at last she knew what that temperament needed,
what it had been seeking, why it had never been able to cease from its
journeying. Santa Sophia had told her.

Her knowledge roused in her a sort of fury of longing for release from
Dion Leith. She saw the Bedouin riding across the sands in the freedom
he had captured, and she ached to be free that she might seek her
master. Somewhere there must be the one man who had the power to fasten
the yoke on her neck.

"Let me find him!" she prayed, almost angrily, and using her will.

She had forgotten Jimmy. Her whole nature was concentrated in the desire
for immediate release from Dion Leith in order that she might be free
to pursue consciously the search which till this moment she had pursued
unconsciously.

The Bedouin did not move. His black, bird-like eyes were wide open, but
he seemed plunged in a dream as he gazed at the Sacred Carpet. He
was absolutely unaware of his surroundings and of Mrs. Clarke's
consideration of him. There was something animal and something royal in
his appearance and his supreme unconsciousness of others. He looked as
if he were a law unto himself, even while he was adoring. How different
he was from Dion Leith.

She shut her eyes as she prayed that Dion might be removed from her
life, somehow, anyhow, by death if need be. In the dark she created for
herself she saw the minarets pointing to the sky as she and Dion had
seen them together from the hill of Eyub as they sat under the giant
cypress. Then she had wanted Dion; now she prayed:

"Take him away! Let me be free from him! Let me never see him again!"

And she felt as if the Unknown God were listenin