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. She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. We’ve deserted the posts in which we found ourselves, cut our duties, exposed ourselves to risks that may destroy any sort of social usefulness in us. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure. "I haven't a word to say, Ah Cum, not a word. “Have you not heard?” she said. She hid behind a mirage of piety, just as I do.
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