She looked at the garden from which an overpowering fragrance arose, at the flowers languidly lifting their bright-colored faces to the sun, drinking in the warmth and the light. “I have a little dove,” she said, “made all of silver. It is a copy of the doves of Eryx, and it is sacred to Astarte. My uncle brought it to me from Tyre. It is pretty, because it is of silver, with eyes of rubies. I put it on the window-sill of my room. It brought the birds; they came and sang on my window-sill. “My little dove sees me kiss myself in my mirror. “Is it wrong, Jonah?” When Jonah did not reply, she said, “Tell me what it is like in the desert. Just imagine, to live all alone in a little hut or a cave, how exciting that is.” Jonah began to tell her of his life in the desert. Seated in the shade on the moss, while the bees hummed outside in the sun, he described the way in which the prophets came together for study and meditation. “I have a little cell,” he said, “in Golan, near a tiny stream which rises in the hills. It is clear and cold, and many prophets live beside its banks among the rushes. In the morning, after we have prayed, we gather in the shade to listen to some learned man, or eminent saint. Our midday meal is simple, a few dates, some maize, a little oil or wine, perhaps a fish from the deep waters of Cinnereth across the hills. And in the afternoon we meditate upon the Law, and the history of our people. “Evening comes suddenly in the wilderness. The shadows lengthen, and night approaches across the desert. The wind of night blows upon the east, which turns dark and blue with cold. In the west the sun goes down into the sea; the sky turns yellow, then green, and shines like a lamp. The stars appear, the dews descend, and the wings of angels begin to sweep through the skies. It is cold, and the desert is silent, save for the prayers of the hermits, which rise in a soft sigh from the earth. As it grows darker the voices of animals begin to mingle with our psalms, and we hear, far off, the roaring of lions on their way to drink. Then our fires are lighted, to guide the Hosts of Heaven to our homes. “The animals are our friends. The little divinities of the rocks and streams know and reverence us. They bring us food, and they tell us of the approach of demons in the form of ostriches and jackals. Against such beings as these our holiness is sufficient protection while we are on God’s land. “Well, that is all, really. It is a simple life, but it has its beauty. In the quiet of the desert our hearts expand like flowers in warm weather, and in our minds blossom lovely and tranquil thoughts.” Moved by a sweet emotion, Judith replied, “How delightful it must be to live in the desert.” She continued in a low tone, “When you speak of God, I seem to feel Him in my heart. It is such a strange feeling, so peaceful and yet a little painful.” And she looked at him with surprised and shining eyes.