Was it the beauty of her surroundings, or was it the man beside her, which
sent the curious, almost painful emotion through her angry heart? For she
was angry--angry with her mother, with herself and him--chiefly with him.
He had been too sure. And yet she was flattered. Also, it was a pleasure
for the first time to be with some one with whom she could drop her
weapons and have no fear. She looked up at him, and found that he was
watching her.
"It was not good-by for ever," he said. "We have met again."
Her anger suddenly subsided. His slow English, with its foreign accent,
his dark features and native dress reminded her vividly that he was of
another (implied, inferior) race, and therefore not to be judged by
ordinary standards. She gave herself up to the pleasure of the moment.
"You have overthrown destiny," she said, smiling. "You have made the
impossible possible. How was I to know all that when I prophesied we
should not meet again?"
"I have not overthrown destiny," he answered. "I have fulfilled it."
"Are you sure of that?"
"Quite sure."
She looked away from him up to the golden dome of the temple which rose
before them against the unclouded sky. Because she had thrown down her
weapons, and in the irresponsible pleasure of the moment become herself,
she acquired a power of penetration and understanding which is denied to
those who with their own hearts closed seek to know the hearts of others.
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