"I will come back," he whispered. "I will come back, Suarra."
"Come back!" her soft arms tightened round his neck. "Come back to me—Graydon!"
She thrust him from her, leaped to her feet.
"No! No!" she sobbed. "No—Graydon! I am wicked. No—it would be death for you."
"As God lives," he told her, "I will come back to you."
She trembled; leaned forward, pressed her lips again to his, slipped from his arms and ran to
the silken tent. For a moment she paused there—stretched wistful hands toward him; and was
hidden in its folds. There seemed to come to him, faintly, heard only by his heart, her voice—
"Come back! Come back—to me!"