ed shadows about them. Her shining hair
was perfectly arranged in the way that suited her best. She put on a
very low-cut evening gown, that showed as much as possible of her still
lovely figure. And she strove to think that she looked no older now than
when Baroudi had seen her last. The mirror contradicted her cruelly. But
she was determined not to believe what it said.

At last she was ready, and she went down to get through the last
_supplice_, as she called it to herself, the tete-a-tete dinner with
Nigel.

He was not yet down, and she was just going to step out upon the terrace
when he came into the drawing-room in evening dress. This was the first
evening since his illness that he had dressed for dinner, and the
clothes he wore seemed to her a sign that soon he would resume his
normal and active life. The look of illness which she had thought she
saw in his face that morning had given place to an expression of
intensity that must surely be the token of inward excitement.

As he came in, she thought to herself that she had never seen Nigel
look so expressive, that she had never imagined he could look so
expressive. Something in his face startled and gripped her.

He, too, gazed at her almost as if with new eyes, as he came towards
her, looking resolute, like a man who had taken some big decision since
she had last seen him an hour ago. All day he had seemed curiously
watchful, uneasy, sometimes weak, sometimes lively with effort. Now,
though intense, excited, he looked determined, and this determination,
too, was like a new note of health.

His eyes went over her bare shoulders. Then he said:

"For me!"

His voice lingered over the words. But his eyes changed in expression as
they looked at her face.

"I couldn't help it to-night Nigel," she said, coolly. "I knew I must be
looking too frightful after all this journeying. You must forgive me
to-night."

"Of course I do. It's good of you to take this trouble for me, even
though I--Come! Dinner is ready."

He drew her arm through his, and led her in to the dining-room.

"Where's Ibrahim to-night?" she said carelessly, as they sat down.

"He asked if he might go to the village to see his mother, and I let him
go."

"Oh!"

She felt relieved. Ibrahim had gone to fetch the felucca to take her
across the Nile. A hot excitement surged through her. In a couple of
hours, perhaps in less time, she would see Baroudi, be alone with
Baroudi. How long she had w