PROJECT ASHABI
African Stories. Limitless Worlds.
PROJECT ASHABI
African Stories. Limitless Worlds.
Project Gutenberg Archive
Complete unabridged public-domain literary work from the Project Gutenberg archive.
Project Ashabi is being built as the home of original African comics, webtoons, graphic novels, and fiction.
This third-party Novel / Book title is temporary preview content. Step by step, third-party titles will be phased out and replaced exclusively by Ashabi Originals created by African writers and artists.
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[Illustration: A miniature of Prince Milaslávski in the uniform of one of his ancestors, in which he appeared at the famous fancy ball at the Winter Palace some years ago. He was about twenty-three at the time. I have selected this likeness of him in preference to a later photograph, as the artist has happily caught him in one of his rarely soft moods, and also, the face being clean shaven, the characteristic chiselling of the lips can be seen. THE AUTHOR.]
"His Hour" is called in England and Russia "When the Hour Came."
With grateful homage and devotion I dedicate this book to
Her Imperial Highness The Grand Duchess Vladimir Of Russia
In memory of the happy evenings spent in her gracious presence when reading to her these pages, which her sympathetic aid, in facilitating my opportunities for studying the Russian character, enabled me to write. Her kind appreciation of the finished work is a source of the deepest gratification to me.
The Sphinx was smiling its eternal smile. It was two o'clock in the morning. The tourists had returned to Cairo, and only an Arab or two lingered near the boy who held Tamara's camel, and then gradually slunk away; thus, but for Hafis, she was alone--alone with her thoughts and the Sphinx.
The strange, mystical face looked straight at her from the elevation where she sat. Its sensual mocking calm penetrated her brain. The creature seemed to be laughing at all humanity--and saying--"There is no beyond--live and enjoy the things of the present--Eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow you die, and I--I who sit here and know, tell you there is no beyond. The things you can touch and hold to your bodies are the only ones worth grasping."
Arthur Conan Doyle
