That's something to be cheerful over.

But you mark my words--I'm doing a bit of prophesying now--when your real prince comes you'll know him by this: he'll come singing this song.

Listen." Picking up his guitar again, he struck one full deep chord and began singing softly the "Bedouin Love-song," "From the desert I come to thee." The refrain floated tremulously through the library window.
"Till the stars are old, And the sun grows cold, And the leaves of the judgment Book unfold." It brought back the whole moonlighted desert to Lloyd, with the odor of orange-blossoms wafted across it, as it had been on two eventful occasions they rode over it together.

She sat quite still in the hammock, with the bit of turquoise clasped tight in her hand.

It was hard to listen to such a beautiful voice unmoved.