be frank, following on his news of
Harwich. With the shrewd cleverness that scarcely ever deserted her, she
had forced her temper into the service of deception. When she knew she
had lost her self-control, that she must show how indignant she was, she
had linked her anger to a cause with which it had nothing to do, a cause
that would stir all his tenderness for her. At the moment when she was
hating him, she was teaching him to love her, and deliberately teaching
him. But now that she was alone, all that was deliberate deserted her,
and, disregarding even the effect grief and anger unrestrained must have
upon her appearance, she gave way, and gave way completely.
She did not come down to lunch, but towards tea-time she reappeared in
the garden, looking calm, but pathetically tired, with soft and wistful
eyes.
"When are you starting for the dahabeeyah?" she asked, as Nigel came
anxiously, repentantly forward to meet her.
"I don't think I'll go at all. I don't want to go. I'll stay here and
have tea with you."
"No, you mustn't do that. I shall like to have tea alone to-day."
She spoke very gently, but her manner, her eyes, and every word rebuked
him.
"Then I'll go," he said, "if you prefer it."
He looked down.
"Baroudi's men have come already to take me over."
"I heard them singing, up in my bedroom. Run along! Don't keep him
waiting."
With the final words she seemed to make an effort, to try to assume the
playful, half-patronizing manner of a pretty woman of the world to a man
supposed to adore her; but she allowed her lips to tremble so that he
might see she was playing a part. He did not dare to say that he saw,
and he went down to the bank of the Nile, got into the felucca that was
waiting, and was rowed out into the river.
As soon as he had gone, Mrs. Armine called Ibrahim to come and put a
chair and a table for her in the shadow of the wall, close to the stone
promontory that was thrust out into the Nile to keep its current from
eating away the earth embankment of the garden.
"I am going to have tea here, Ibrahim," she said. "Tell Hassan to bring
it directly the sun begins to set."
"Yes, suttinly," replied the always young and cheerful. "And shall
Ibrahim come back and stay with you?"
She shook her head, looking kindly at the boy, who had quickly learnt to
adore her, as had all the Nubians in the villa.
"Not to-day, Ibrahim. To-day I want to be alone."
He inclined his long, thin
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