"
She did not reply.
The day declined, and there was no more conversation. As the train
devoured leagues of swampy territory, villages were passed. The
journey's end was nearing. Soon meadows were seen surrounding
magnificent villas. A wide, shallow river was crossed, the Oxal; Pobloff
knew by his pocket map that Nirgiz was nigh. And for the first time in
twenty-four hours he sorrowed. Despite his broad invitations and
unmistakable hints, he could not trap his travelling companion into an
avowal of her identity, of her destination. Nothing could be coaxed from
the giant, and it was with a sinking heart--Pobloff was very
sentimental--that he saw the lights of Nirgiz; a few minutes later the
train entered the Oriental station. In the heat, the clamour of half a
thousand voices, yelling unknown jargons, his resolution to keep his
companions in view went for naught. Beset by jabbering porters, he did
not have an opportunity to say farewell to the veiled lady; with her
escort she had disappeared when the car stopped--and without a word of
thanks! Pobloff was wretched.
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