w us to proceed. I
have sent a runner through to the friend I was going to see."--Damaris
touched the jasmine at her side and sighed. "I will tell you the whole
history when I return. So sad, my child; so very tragic. She may come
to see me, as the authorities have no power over her. She is staying
at her eldest son's house until his return. I will let you know my
movements as soon as I can. Enjoy yourself. Dekko is very quiet; he
is either apprehensive or going to moult."

Damaris smiled spasmodically when, as she put the letter down under the
jasmine, her neighbours let off a broadside.

The head dragoman wanted to get up a party for Deir el-Bahari on the
morrow. He had twenty pairs of donkeys, all of which were so
accustomed, it seemed, to going about in a bunch that they refused to
move a step if one pair was missing. Nineteen pairs had been filled
from the different hotels, one pair was still minus riders. Would
Damaris make a couple with Mr. Lumlough?

Mr. Lumlough, who was of the raw age of nineteen and who worshipped in
secret at the girl's shrine, blushed divinely salmon-pink and coughed.

Damaris shook her head.

She longed to see the Temple, as she longed to go to Denderah, but not
in a crowd; also, she longed to confide all her secrets (of which her
visit to the Temple of Amnon was not one of the least) to her
godmother. She was just the slightest bit scared, and, being very
young, felt incapable of prescribing for her burnt finger-tips.

She had only to keep away from the fire, but, as I have already said,
she was very young.

"Do, Damaris! We are taking our lunch on donkeys, as well."

"But why not let the empty pair go without riders? Or let Mr. Lumlough
go on one and let the other trot by its side without anyone? I'm sure
it would love a holiday."

No! These twenty pairs of donkeys belonged to an asinine Trades Union.
The twenty pairs went together or not at all; they went up the steep
hill with a human being on their backs or not at all; if one solitary
moke out of the forty trades-unionists should be asked to climb a hill
with nothing on its back, it would not move one step--no, not if the
most luscious carrot feast awaited it at the top; and if it refused to
budge, the thirty-nine others would support it by also refusing to
budge! Yes! even if they held up the whole of the tourist season for
eternity and never again tasted luscious carrot in all the years
allotted to the as