"Never mind," I said morosely. "You don't understand. You never
will."
And yet I believed sometimes that she would - that time was on my
side.
When Kahdra and I pulled her across to Nour-Mahal's garden next
day, how could I not believe it - her face was so full of joy as
she looked at me for sympathy?
"I don't think so much beauty is crowded into any other few miles
in the world - beauty of association, history, nature,
everything!" she said with shining eyes. "The lotus flowers are
not out yet but when they come that is the last touch of
perfection. Do you remember Homer - 'But whoso ate of the
honey-sweet fruit of the lotus, was neither willing to bring me
word again, nor to depart. Nay, their desire was to remain there
for ever, feeding on the lotus with the Lotus Eaters, forgetful
of all return.' You know the people here eat the roots and seeds?
I ate them last year and perhaps that is why I cannot stay away.
But look at Nour- Mahal's garden!"
We were pulling in among the reeds and the huge carven leaves of
the water plants, and the snake-headed buds lolling upon them
with the slippery half-sinister look that water-flowers have, as
though their cold secret life belonged to the hidden water world
and not to ours.
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