For the past three months I have regularly met in
my trances."...
Sir Brian shuddered coldly.
"In my explorations of that wonderland," continued the Frenchman, "a
most fascinating Eastern girl. Ah! I cannot describe her; for when, at
a time like this, I seek to conjure up her image,--nom d'un nom! do you
know, I can think of nothing but a serpent!"
"A serpent!"
"A serpent, exactly. Yet, when I actually meet her in the land of the
poppies, she is a dusky Cleopatra in whose arms I forget the world--even
the world of the poppy. We float down the stream together, always in
an Indian bark canoe, and this stream runs through orange groves.
Numberless apes--millions of apes, inhabit these groves, and as we
two float along, they hurl orange blossoms--orange blossoms, you
understand--until the canoe is filled with them. I assure you, monsieur,
that I perform these delightful journeys regularly, and to be deprived
of the key which opens the gate of this wonderland, is to me like being
exiled from a loved one. Pardieu! that grove of the apes! Morbleu! my
witch of the dusky eyes! Yet, as I have told you, owing to some trick of
my brain, whilst I can experience an intense longing for that companion
of my dreams, my waking attempts to visualize her provide nothing but
the image".
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