He thirsted, quite with the mortal honesty of an Arab, day and night and day again without drink in the desert, and the oasis palms seen at last on the horizon.

In his self-direction thitherward he was as candid, one-pointed, and ruthless as the Arab might be.

He had no deliberate thought of harm to the woman before him--as little as the Arab would have of hurting the well whose cool wave seemed to like the lip touch.

Perhaps he as little stopped to reason as would have done the Arab.

Perhaps he had no thought of deeply injuring a friend.