Mrs. Armine said nothing, but she went on staring at Ibrahim.
"P'r'aps my gentleman go out to-night. If he go, you take a little walk with Ibrahim."
He turned, and pointed behind her, to the distance where the rising sand-hill seemed to touch the stooping sky.
"You take a little walk up there."
Still she said nothing. She asked nothing. She had no need to ask. All the desolation about her seemed suddenly to blossom like the rose. Instead of the end of the world, this place seemed to be the core, the warm heart of the world.
When at last she spoke, she said quietly: "Your master will go jackal-shooting to-night."
Ibrahim nodded his head.
"I dessay," he pensively replied.
The soft crack of a duck-gun came to their ears from far off among the tamarisk bushes beside the green-grey waters.
"I dessay my Lord Arminigel him goin' after the jackal to-night."