There were only the driver, a personal servant, and the
two ladies; Mrs. Delany, comely, pleasant, talkative, and Vanna-
Her face in its dark motoring veil, fine and delicate as a young
moon in a cloud drift - the sensitive sweet mouth that had
quivered a little when she spoke of Fitzgerald - the pure glance
that radiated such kindness to all the world. She sat there with
the Key of Dreams pressed against her slight bosom - her eyes
dreaming above it. Already the strange airs of her unknown world
were breathing about me, and as yet I knew not the things that
belonged unto my peace.
We glided along the straight military road from Peshawar to
Nowshera, the gold-bright sun dazzling in its whiteness - a
strange drive through the flat, burned country, with the ominous
Kabul River flowing through it. Military preparations everywhere,
and the hills looking watchfully down - alive, as it were, with
keen, hostile eyes. War was at present about us as behind the
lines in France; and when we crossed the Kabul River on a bridge
of boats, and I saw its haunted waters, I began to feel the
atmosphere of the place closing down upon me.
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