"Don’t say that again. That hurts me. I can never have a sense of innocence for my weakness this morning if you hold to that. Won’t you give it back to me?" "Do you think I would leave you here alone—a white woman in this place, to arrange your own journey of so many days to Europe, to pass the nights alone here, till you are ready, to start all alone?" "I should not leave here for a journey to Europe till I am relieved. There should be a Russian to attend to all the papers here. The little but imperative work day by day—I have done most of that heretofore. There is no one but me to do it now.... I shall be safe enough here. At most, my part is a little thing. My fears at night-fall—they are not to be considered now. You are the one to be considered. Do you think I have failed to comprehend the significance of your mission?" He followed her eyes into the darkness, thick upon the little court. "It is not only that," he said. "You have comprehended everything. You always know before I finish a sentence. I could be with you years and never explain a meaning.... My mission does not call me to-night. If I were to go, I should never be able to see past your face, your frightened face, the face of you here alone at night-fall. I think I was guided here to be with you through these hard days. Many have said, ’Put love away,’ but the greatest have said, ’Give all to love!’" The night seemed heavy upon her; her words came from the heart of it: "Can it be that you would lower the meaning of the great ones who say, ’Give all to love’? I’m afraid they do not mean the love of man and woman. Give all to the love _of the world_. Give all to the love of the weak and the little ones—that is the meaning of the great ones. No one knows that better than you. This is the place of meetings and partings. You know that. Was there ever a lingering together of lovers here that was proof against _ennui_, against satiety? It is only the weak who linger, who make their beds at the meeting-places. The great ones go on." She had arisen. She was farther from him, but higher to his eyes.... And just then there came from out the darkness of the desert, a horrid puking laugh—like a jangling of stones in a thick glass bottle. It had nothing to do with distance. From near or far it reached them, and seemed to linger in the room like an evil odour. It broke the woman for the moment. She caught him in her arms and cried out words that were like a command: "... You cannot, you must not leave me now!" *8*