e. If he did come she felt now that she could no longer
be obedient. She would have to see him, have to force him to come out
from his deep mystery of the Eastern mind and take notice of what she
was feeling. His magnificent selfishness had dominated hers. But she was
becoming desperate. The thought of her wrecked beauty haunted her
always, though she was perpetually thrusting it away from her. She was
resolved to think that there was very little change in her appearance,
and that such change as there was would only be temporary. A little,
only a little of what she wanted, and surely the Indian summer would
return.

And then, she thought of Meyer Isaacson up there in the house close to
her, with his horribly acute eyes that proclaimed his horribly acute
brain. That man could be pitiless, but not to Nigel. And could he ever
be pitiless to her without being pitiless to Nigel?

She looked at the water, and now stood still.

If Baroudi were on board the _Loulia_ to-night, she would get a boat and
go to him--would not she?--and say she could not stand her life any
longer, that she must be with him. She would let him treat her as he
chose. Thinking of Nigel's kindness at this moment she actually longed
for cruelty from Baroudi.

But she must be with him.

If she could only be with Baroudi anywhere, anyhow, she would throw the
memory of this hateful life with Nigel away for ever. She would never
give Nigel another thought. There would be no time to waste over that.

"But what am I going to do? What am I going to do?"

That sentence came back to her mind. Flights of the imagination were
useless. It was no use now to give the reins to imagination.

Baroudi must come up the river. He must be coming up, or the _Loulia_
would surely not be tied up against the western shore. But perhaps she
was there only for the night. Perhaps she would sail on the morrow.

Mrs. Armine felt that if the next morning the _Loulia_ was gone she
would be unable to remain in Luxor. She would have to take the train and
go. Where? Anywhere! To Cairo. She could make some excuse; that she must
get some clothes, mourning for Harwich. That would do. She would say she
was going only for a couple of days. Nigel would let her go. And Meyer
Isaacson?

What he wished and what he meant in regard to her Mrs. Armine did not
know. And just at this moment she scarcely cared. The return to the
villa and the departure of the _Loulia_ seemed to have fanned the f