What a place to talk of suicide, there, in the midst of that oriental

garden, voluptuous with a thousand unspoken suggestions, laden with the

perfume of flowers, glowing with the many colored lights that illumined

it, rustling as with the sound of hidden insects as the gowns of

gorgeously bedecked women brushed against the growing things! Over our

heads, beyond the glass roof, the storm still howled, although with

less violence, and the contrast seemed strangely in keeping with the

condition of my own mind, outwardly so calm and composed, yet torn by

the thousand conflicting emotions that were induced by the proximity of

this entrancing creature, and the knowledge of what her fate, and

therefore mine, must inevitably be.




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