ll could not. Her remark contained an
invitation; Michael knew it.

"Can you never get away?" she asked. "It would be my expedition, if
you would run it for me."

Michael moved from her side, with the pretence of drawing a chair to
within speaking distance of her. She had reluctantly to let his wrist
slip from her fingers.

"Say you will arrange it," she pleaded. "For weeks I have felt the
call of the desert and you know you'd love to come."

"I can't do it," Michael said, almost sternly. "Please don't tempt me
. . . I have work to do."

"Oh, but I will tempt you!" She laughed the soft, low laugh of
passion. "By every means in my power. With you it is so difficult to
know what will tempt you most. Am I to appeal to the mystic side of
you, or to the human? I think the human Michael will suit me best, the
Michael who longs to let himself go and enjoy the fullness of Egypt and
the wonders of the desert!"

"Don't appeal to any part of me," he said quickly. "Leave me to do my
work in the best possible way--try not to act as a disturbing
influence."

"Then I have been a disturbing influence?" Michael's voice had
betrayed the fact that his work had not been accomplished without
difficulty.

"Yes," he said, for the spirit of truth was always uppermost in
Michael. "For some days after I left you the last time I found great
difficulty in concentrating my mind on my work. . . . I was
dissatisfied."

"Then I succeeded!" The amethyst eyes, devoid of all hardness now,
caressed Michael and disturbed his nerves. The woman was very
beautiful, and he was conscious that her mind was set on her desire to
win him. He knew that it was not love; he knew that their intimacy was
not one of wholesome friendship. He was becoming more and more awake
to the fact that this wealthy woman, who looked like a child but for
the expression of her eyes, had taken an unreasoning desire to have him
for her lover. In a measure he could not but feel flattered, for with
her beauty and wealth she could have had the attention of better men
than himself. He was too generous in his judgment of women to
attribute her desire to the lowest motives, the prospect of enjoying
through another the innocence which she had lost herself so long ago.

"I tried to reach you, Mike. I used every effort of my will-power, or
mind-power, or whatever power you like to call it. I insisted on your
feeling me. I sent myself out of myself to you."