he
woman's antagonism to herself, although her words had been charming and
friendly.

"If she wasn't beautiful and tiny, I'd like to wring her neck and throw
her to the crocodiles below!"

This was what might be interpreted as Margaret's true feelings as she
answered Mrs. Mervill's question and succeeded in making some banal
remarks about the view and the magnificence of the hotel. When she had
said all that politeness demanded of her, she turned away, a trifle
disconsolately.

"Please wait one moment, Miss Lampton," Michael said. "I think this is
the supper-interval. Mrs. Mervill," he said, "can I take you back to
your partner? I am engaged to Miss Lampton for supper."

"No, thanks," she said, "I didn't engage myself to anyone for supper."
Her eyes plainly expressed the fact that they had hitherto at these
dances always enjoyed the supper-interval together. "Will you be very
kind and send a waiter out here with a glass of champagne and some
sandwiches? That is all I want."

Michael looked disturbed. "But I don't like leaving you alone."

"I prefer the company of the stars," she said, "to just anybody--really
I do. I never feel that one comes to Egypt for these hotel dances."
This was meant for Margaret, to make her feel frivolous and vulgar.

Margaret refused to accept it. "My brother and I have been dancing
every dance and every extra and forgetting all about Egypt. Have you?"
She turned to Mike.

"No, I have been sitting this last one out with Mrs. Mervill. She
feels tired. And certainly Egypt is very much here." He pointed to
the scene before them.

"Yes, quite another Egypt," Margaret said. "Egypt has so many souls."

"And I have to be a little careful," Mrs. Mervill said, "of
over-fatigue."

"I am sorry," Margaret said, while she inwardly noted the woman's
perfect health. The slender feminine appearance of her rival had
nothing in common with ill-health; a blush-rose bud was not more softly
and evenly tinted. She suggested to Margaret something good to
eat--pink and white ice-creams mingled together in a crystal bowl.

Healthily devoid as Margaret was of sex-consciousness, it was curious
that this first close inspection of Mrs. Mervill should have told her
what she never dreamed of before, or even thought about--that she loved
Michael Amory. This woman was going to come between herself and
Michael; that there was great intimacy between them she felt certain,
also that Michael, even