So I cried to M. de Chagny:

“It’s the mirage!⁠ ⁠… It’s the mirage!⁠ ⁠… Don’t believe in the water!⁠ ⁠… It’s another trick of the mirrors!⁠ ⁠…”

Then he flatly told me to shut up, with my tricks of the mirrors, my springs, my revolving doors and my palaces of illusions! He angrily declared that I must be either blind or mad to imagine that all that water flowing over there, among those splendid, numberless trees, was not real water!⁠ ⁠… And the desert was real!⁠ ⁠… And so was the forest!⁠ ⁠… And it was no use trying to take him in⁠ ⁠… he was an old, experienced traveler⁠ ⁠… he had been all over the place!

And he dragged himself along, saying: “Water! Water!”

And his mouth was open, as though he were drinking.

And my mouth was open too, as though I were drinking.