ime and see. I
want an answer."

The man went away. Slowly the morning passed. Twelve o'clock came, but
the messenger did not return. Mrs. Armine had lunch in her room, but she
could scarcely eat anything. After lunch she ordered very strong coffee.
As she was drinking her second cup, there was a tap on the door. She
cried, "Come in," and the messenger reappeared.

"Well?" she said. "Well?"

The man looked at her as if her voice had startled him.

"The gentleman has not come in, ma'am."

"When is he coming in?"

"I don't know, ma'am."

"Is he in Cairo?"

"I don't know, ma'am."

"What do you know? What's the good of you? What are you here for? Go
back at once, and find out whether the gentleman is in Cairo or not."

The messenger went out rather hurriedly.

Mrs. Armine was shaking. She had felt inclined to attack the man, to
beat him for his stupidity, as slaves are often beaten by their masters
when they do wrong. When she was alone, she uttered two or three
incoherent exclamations. Her body was burning with a sort of cruel, dry
heat. She felt parched all over. An hour passed, and at length she
again heard a tap. The messenger came in, and very sulkily said:

"The gentleman was in Cairo last night, ma'am."

"What I want to know is whether he is in Cairo now!" she exclaimed,
angrily.

"They don't know, ma'am."

"Don't know! They must know!"

"They don't know, ma'am."

"I tell you they must know!"

"They don't know, ma'am."

She sprang up, tingling. She didn't know what she was going to do, but
as she faced him the expression in the messenger's eyes recalled her to
a sense of the proprieties. Without another word, she gave him some
money and turned her back on him. When she heard the door close, she no
longer controlled herself, until suddenly once more she remembered her
ravaged face.

She went into her bedroom and after half an hour she came out dressed
for driving. She was resolved to go herself to Baroudi's house. After
all these months of slavish obedience and of fear, something rose up
within her, something that had passed for the moment beyond obedience
and even beyond fear, that was fiercely determined, that was reckless of
consequences. She engaged a victoria and drove to Baroudi's house. It
was on the outskirts of Cairo, near the Nile, on the Island of Gezira. A
garden surrounded it, enclosed by high walls and entered by tall gates
of elaborately-wrought ironwork. These gates were shu