"But sunsets never grow old," she continued, with no apparent relevance.

"La, la, we were young once!" Her eyes were lost again in the pinkish glow spreading over the grey-brown sand of the desert, over the palm-covered island near.

"And now it's others' turn, or ought to be," she murmured.
She looked to where, not far away, Hylda stood leaning over the railing of the dahabieh, her eyes fixed in reverie on the farthest horizon line of the unpeopled, untravelled plain of sand.
"No, poor thing, it's not her turn," she added, as Hylda, with a long sigh, turned and went below.

Tears gathered in her pale blue eyes.

"Not yet--with Eglington alive.