midnight
Mrs. Haxton was no laggard in her hammock on the day after Royson 's departure from the camp , but , early riser though she was , Irene was up and dressed when the older woman came to her tent and asked if she might have a word with her . In fact , Irene had not undressed at all the previous night . When she tore herself from Dick 's arms , she hurried back to the oasis , it is true , but only to draw a chair out into the open , and sit there under the stars , dreaming the dreams of a girl to whom the heaven of love has just thrown wide its portals . Even the midnight chill did not drive her to bed . She closed the flap of her tent , lit a lamp , and tried to read , but the letters danced before her eyes . Instead of the scenes portrayed by the book , she saw three ghostly camels shuffling through stones and sand in the darkness , and , on one of them , the tall figure of the man whose parting words had filled her soul with honey sweetness . At last , weary with anxiety on his behalf , she threw herself , fully dressed , on her low-hung hammock , this being Mr. Fenshawe 's clever device to protect European skins from the attacks of the insects that swarm in the desert wherever there is any sign of dampness .