red. "Does Lucullus crave for sausages? Do
philosophers play marbles?"

He laughed again, noting the rather blank look of Agapoulos.

"You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?" he added. "I mean to
say that these men have been everywhere and done everything. They have
drunk wine sweet and sour and have swallowed the dregs. I am bringing
them. It is enough."

"More than enough," declared the Greek with enthusiasm. He bowed,
although Grantham was not looking at him. "In the little matter of fees
I can rely upon your discretion, as always. Is it not said that a good
dragoman is a desirable husband?"

Major Grantham resettled himself in his chair.

"M. Agapoulos," he said icily, "we have done shady business together for
years, both in Port Said and in London, and have remained the best of
friends; two blackguards linked by our common villainy. But if this
pleasant commercial acquaintance is to continue let there be no
misunderstanding between us, M. Agapoulos. I may know I'm a dragoman;
but in future, old friend"--he turned lazy eyes upon the Greek--"for
your guidance, don't remind me of the fact or I'll wring your neck."

The drooping eyelids of M. Agapoulos flickered significantly, but it was
with a flourish more grand than usual that he bowed.

"Pardon, pardon," he murmured. "You speak harshly of yourself, but ah,
you do not mean it. We understand each other, eh?"

"I understand you perfectly," drawled Grantham; "I was merely advising
you to endeavour to understand me. My party will arrive at nine o'clock,
Agapoulos, and I am going back to the Savoy shortly to dress. Meanwhile,
if Hassan would bring me a whisky and soda I should be obliged."

"Of course, of course. He shall do so at once," cried Agapoulos. "I will
tell him."

Palpably glad to escape, the fat Greek retired, leaving Major Grantham
lolling there upon the leopard skin, his hat, cane and gloves upon the
carpet beside him; and a few moments later Hassan the silent glided into
the extravagant apartment bearing refreshments. Placing his tray upon a
little coffee-table beside Major Grantham, he departed.

There was a faint smell of perfume in the room, a heavy voluptuous smell
in which the odour of sandal-wood mingled with the pungency of myrrh. It
was very silent, so that when Grantham mixed a drink the pleasant chink
of glass upon glass rang out sharply.

II

ZAHARA

Zahara had overheard the latter part of the conversation from