He
wondered if the uncontaminated winds which blew from out the ages across
the vast, empty spaces murmured a message of greater import than that
whispered to him among the mountain tops, if the wings of light which
beat unceasingly above its shifting sands lifted the soul to some
undreamed of realm of eternal morning. Something that slept deep within
him stirred faintly; the old passion to adventure, to explore rose in
his heart, his restless, reckless heart, which had, so he believed,
found peace.
The shadow deepened in his eyes, but he suddenly roused from this
momentary abstraction to find that Pearl was still speaking.
"Yes, I love them because they are so beautiful, but I love them, too,
because they are valuable."
"Well, there is no question about your making all the money you wish,"
he said, a slight weariness in his tone, "thousands and thousands. The
world will fling it at you. It will cover you with jewels."
She smiled, a faint, secretive smile of triumph. Ah, so he recognized
that. She had made him feel and admit that she was one of the few great
dancers.
Then, she, too, sighed. "If only," she said, forgetful of him and
following out her train of thought aloud, "if only when I get what I
want, I wouldn't always want something else! Did you ever feel if you
could just be free, really free, you wouldn't want anything else in the
world?"
"How could any one be more free than you are?" he laughed down at her.
"I know, I know," she agreed, still speaking wistfully, "but I'd like to
be free of myself; myself is so strange, and there's so many of me.
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