He was fast rising to an eminence that no one of his nefarious profession ever reached before him, nor, it is to be hoped, will ever reach again. ‘Oh, Lord,’ muttered Gerald, going instantly to her aid. He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. I'll tell you something. Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers? Some living thing that depended upon her.
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