The Sheik

Gradually the terrible shuddering passed and the gasping sobs died

away, and she lay still, so still and white that he was afraid. He

tried to rise to fetch some restorative, but at the first movement she

clung to him, pressing closer to him. "I don't want anything but you,"

she murmured almost inaudibly.

His arm tightened round her and he turned her face up to his. Her eyes

were closed and the wet lashes lay black against her pale cheek. His

lips touched them pitifully.

"Diane, will you never look at me again?" His voice was almost humble.

Her eyes quivered a moment and them opened slowly, looking up into his

with a still-lingering fear in them. "You won't send me away?" she

whispered pleadingly, like a terrified child.

A hard sob broke from him and he kissed her trembling lips fiercely.

"Never!" he said sternly. "I will never let you go now. My God! If you

knew how I wanted you. If you knew what it cost me to send you away.

Pray God I keep you happy. You know the worst of me, poor child--you

will have a devil for a husband."

The colour stole back slowly into her face and a little tremulous smile

curved her lips. She slid her arm up and round his neck, drawing his

head down. "I am not afraid," she murmured slowly. "I am not afraid of

anything with your arms round me, my desert lover. Ahmed! Monseigneur!"