she
would bite you if you did not let her have her way. She was smiling
cruelly now, and murmuring to Lady Hayman, a naturally large, but
powerfully compressed personage, with a too-sanguine complexion
insufficiently corrected by powder, and a too-autocratic temperament
insufficiently corrected by Lord Hayman.

All these people--Mrs. Armine knew it "in her bones"--had just been
reading the _Morning Post_. Here in Egypt they stood for "London." She
saw London's verdict, "Serve her right," in their cool smiles, their
moments of direct attention to herself--an attention hard, insolent,
frigid as steel--in the curious glances of pity combined with a sort of
animal, almost school-boy, amusement, which the two men sent towards
Nigel.

She looked from "London" to "Egypt," represented by Baroudi. In marrying
Nigel she had longed to set her heel upon the London which had despised
her; she had hoped some day to set the heel of Lady Harwich upon more
than one woman whom she had known before she was cast out. Secretly she
had reckoned upon that, as upon something that was certain, something
for which she had only to wait. Lord Harwich was worn out, and he was a
wildly reckless man, always having accidents, always breaking his bones.
She would only have to wait.

And now--twin boys, and all London smiling!

Again she looked at Baroudi. The fervent and melancholy music was rising
towards a climax. It caught hold of her now, had her in a grip, swept
her onwards. When it ceased, she felt as if she had been carried away
from "London," and from those old ambitions and hopes for ever.

Baroudi's great eyes were upon her, and seemed to read her thoughts; and
now for the first time she felt uneasy under their resolute gaze, felt
the desire, almost the necessity to escape from it and to be unwatched.

"Have you had enough of the music, Nigel?" she said to her husband, as
the musicians lifted their chins from their instruments, and let their
arms drop down.

He started.

"What, Ruby? By Jove, they do play well!"

There was a look in his eyes almost as of one coming back from a long
and dark journey underground into the light of day. That music had taken
him back to the side of the girl whom he had loved, and who had died so
long ago. Now he looked at the woman who was living, and to whom the
great power to love which was within him was being directed, on whom it
was being concentrated.

"Do you mind if we go home?" she said.

"