Then he swayed and fell upon the stones.
* * * * *
When St. George opened his eyes it was ten o'clock of the following
morning, though he felt no interest in that. There was before him a
great rectangle of light. He lifted his head and saw that the light
appeared to flow from the interior of the tomb of King Abibaal. The
next moment Amory's cheery voice, pitched high in consternation and
relief, made havoc among the echoes with a background of Jarvo's
smooth thanksgiving for the return of adon.
St. George, coatless, stiff from the hours on the mouldy stones,
dragged himself up and turned his eyes in fear upon the figure
beside him. It flashed hopefully through his mind that perhaps it
had not changed, that perhaps he had dreamed it all, that perhaps
...
By his first glance that hope was dispelled. From beneath Amory's
coat on the floor an arm came forth, pushing the coat aside, and a
man slenderly built, with a youthful, sensitive face and somewhat
critically-drooping lids, sat up leisurely and looked about him in
slow surprise, kindling to distinct amusement.
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