Meriem pressed her hand above her heart as she stifled a sigh, and
as she did so she felt the hard outlines of the photograph she had
hidden there as she slunk from Malbihn's tent. Now she drew it
forth and commenced to re-examine it more carefully than she had
had time to do before. She was sure that the baby face was hers.
She studied every detail of the picture. Half hidden in the lace
of the dainty dress rested a chain and locket. Meriem puckered
her brows. What tantalizing half-memories it awakened! Could this
flower of evident civilization be the little Arab Meriem, daughter
of The Sheik? It was impossible, and yet that locket? Meriem
knew it. She could not refute the conviction of her memory. She
had seen that locket before and it had been hers. What strange
mystery lay buried in her past?
As she sat gazing at the picture she suddenly became aware that
she was not alone--that someone was standing close behind her--some
one who had approached her noiselessly. Guiltily she thrust the
picture back into her waist. A hand fell upon her shoulder.
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