or yielding so easily to the pleasures which
Millicent had provided, anticipating the enjoyment he would derive from
eating all the good things.

After three days' hard travelling in the desert and some days spent in
economical living in Luxor, while his arrangements were being made, he
was readier than he imagined for a good and delicately-appointed meal.
Even at the hut he had never sat down to a lunch such as this. The
renaissance of the old Adam astonished him.

The servants had betaken themselves to a sheltered spot; discretion being
nine-tenths of a good dragoman's training, Hassan and Abdul saw to it
that their master and mistress should not be disturbed, while they
themselves remained out of sight, but within call.

"Let's sit down," Millicent said. "I'm starving--the desert turns me
into an absolute primitive."

They sat down and while Millicent rid herself of her gloves; and sun-hat
and veil, Michael remained lost in thought. How nice it was! As nice as
anything could be, if . . . the "if" was subconscious . . . if he had
only come on this journey into the desert to enjoy himself, if there was
no Margaret. But there was a Margaret, and he adored Margaret, whose
dear dark head and trustful eyes were ever present with him they were as
present in the shelter as the golden head and the inviting, provoking
eyes opposite to him. There never again would be for him a world which
held no Margaret, nor could he endure it if there was. And yet her very
existence robbed this desert feast of its flavour. He knew that to be
loyal and true to Margaret he ought not to be accepting and appreciating
the dainty lunch laid before him. He ought not to be eating it with the
woman Meg detested.

What if Margaret knew? What if his practical mystic had already had a
vision of their meeting? Had some native carried Millicent's plans to
meet him to the Valley? Had the birds of the air brought the news to
Freddy's ears? Was Margaret now tortured by a vision of this sumptuous
desert picnic? Could she see him sitting alone with Millicent in her
tent? He knew how mysteriously news travels in the desert, how quickly
it journeys. A wave of anger flushed his face as he pictured to himself
what Freddy would think of the situation.

His hands trembled as he took Millicent's dust-cloak and hat. She looked
extremely pretty in her white muslin dress, which the cloak had hidden.
Millicent mistook the meaning of his trembling