A. E. W. Mason

“ Thresk climbed up on to the camel behind the driver, whilst a servant held the beast's head.
"Sit firm," said Ballantyne, "or you'll be pitched off as he gets up."
The camel rose, unfolding himself in sections, while Thresk was shot forwards and backwards like a child upon a rocking-horse.
"There, you are all right now," cried Ballantyne. "Hold on and good-night."
"Good-night," said Thresk.
The camel moved out of the glare of the fire into the haze of the moonlight. The noise of the camp dropped away behind him. He heard only the soft padding of the camel's feet. ”

“ Again she laughed in frank and utter disbelief.
"Nor is Stella. That's mere politeness and good manners. We must show the dear creatures the great part they play in our lives." And upon that all her fortitude suddenly deserted her. She had played her part so far, she could play it no longer. An extraordinary change came over her face. The smiles, the laughter slipped from it like a loosened mask. Thresk saw such an agony of weariness and hopeless longing in her eyes as he had never seen even with his experience in the Courts of Law. She drew back into the shadow of the tent. ”

“ Thresk conceded. "But why? Because it's only here in camp that he lets himself go. He told us as much to-night. You were here at the table. You heard. He let his secret slip: no one to carry tales, no one to spy. In the towns he sets a guard upon himself. Yes, but he looks forward to the months of camp when there are no next-door neighbours."
"No, that's not true," she protested and cast about for explanations. "He—he has had a long day and to-night he was tired—and when you are tired—— Oh, as a rule he's different." And to her relief she heard Ballantyne's voice outside the tent. ”