erately by
another.

"It is not Larbi. He would not go in there. It must be----"

He paused. A tall, middle-aged man had come to the doorway of the little
room and looked out into the garden with bright eyes.

CHAPTER VI

Domini drew back and glanced at Smain. She was not accustomed to feeling
intrusive, and the sudden sensation rendered her uneasy.

"It is Monsieur the Count," Smain said calmly and quite aloud.

The man in the doorway took off his soft hat, as if the words effected
an introduction between Domini and him.

"You were coming to see my little room, Madame?" he said in French. "If
I may show it to you I shall feel honoured."

The timbre of his voice was harsh and grating, yet it was a very
interesting, even a seductive, voice, and, Domini thought, peculiarly
full of vivid life, though not of energy. His manner at once banished
her momentary discomfort. There is a freemasonry between people born in
the same social world. By the way in which Count Anteoni took off his
hat and spoke she knew at once that all was right.

"Thank you, Monsieur," she answered. "I was told at the gate you gave
permission to travellers to visit your garden."

"Certainly."

He spoke a few words in fluent Arabic to Smain, who turned away and
disappeared among the trees.

"I hope you will allow me to accompany you through the rest of the
garden," he said, turning again to Domini. "It will give me great
pleasure."

"It is very kind of you."

The way in which the change of companion had been effected made it seem
a pleasant, inevitable courtesy, which neither implied nor demanded
anything.

"This is my little retreat," Count Anteoni continued, standing aside
from the doorway that Domini might enter.

She drew a long breath when she was within.

The floor was of fine sand, beaten flat and hard, and strewn with
Eastern rugs of faint and delicate hues, dim greens and faded rose
colours, grey-blues and misty topaz yellows. Round the white walls ran
broad divans, also white, covered with prayer rugs from Bagdad, and
large cushions, elaborately worked in dull gold and silver thread, with
patterns of ibises and flamingoes in flight. In the four angles of the
room stood four tiny smoking-tables of rough palm wood, holding
hammered ash-trays of bronze, green bronze torches for the lighting of
cigarettes, and vases of Chinese dragon china filled with velvety red
roses, gardenias and sprigs of orange blossom. Leather foot