et, watching the stars through the open window, the old lady
suddenly decided to bestir herself.

"It's too risky! She's too beautiful, too young and unsophisticated,"
she murmured as she lit a cigarette under the curtains, which is
strictly against the rules. "I'd bet my last _piastre_ that Jill
Carden's son's all right, but, all the same, one has to reckon with the
glamour of the East. Love's all very well in a cool climate, but it's
the dickens out here. Must get her anchored in safe waters. What
d'you think, Dekko old friend? What course shall I set? Shall we go
home, or to Heliopolis?"

The bird scrambled awkwardly on to the dressing-table.

"Well, old man, how about it?"

"Steer a straight course for hell, old dear," came the muffled reply,
as the bird twisted its head under its wing, then untucked it to murmur
sleepily: "T'hell!"

So she made up her mind to move on the very day after the girl's
birthday, which fell in a fortnights time. She would, indeed, have
left at once if it had not been that she had issued invitations on a
gigantic scale for a fancy-dress ball in honour of the anniversary.

Inwardly Damaris rebelled at the suggestion of moving on to Heliopolis;
outwardly she acquiesced without enthusiasm.

"But if it will do that nasty little cough good, dearest, why wait for
the ball?"

"Do you want to go, Maris?"

"The desert will be so near," evaded the girl. "Half-an-hour's ride at
the most, so--so Ben Kelham told me, and there you see the desert,
miles upon miles of it stretching right away like the sea."

The hawk-eyes flashed across the girl's face, taking in the forced
indifference of the expression and the light which gleamed far down in
the eyes.

"I had a letter from Ben this morning. His lung has been troubling
him; that is why he hasn't been over."

"Did you--has it--is it--?" rather lamely replied the girl.

He had written Damaris a perfunctory note of welcome to the Land of the
Pharaohs; then, a week later, had come over to dine. He had ached to
take his beautiful little chum up in his arms and shake her for her
haughtiness and by sheer strength of arms and will force her to say
"yes" to the question which it took him all his strength not to ask.

Since childhood he had been her slave, her door-mat, and the butt of
her various moods, feeling infinitely well rewarded by a careless smile
or word; so that he found it difficult, in fact well-nigh impossible,
to act up