echoed the rush of her vital personality.

This was the first impression that he got--from the most striking,
curious face he had ever seen in a woman. It remained very near him all
through the meal: she had moved to his table, it seemed she sat beside
him. Their minds certainly knew contact from that moment.

It is never difficult to credit strangers with the qualities and
knowledge that oneself craves for, and no doubt Henriot's active fancy
went busily to work. But, none the less, this thing remained and grew:
that this woman was aware of the hidden things of Egypt he had always
longed to know. There was knowledge and guidance she could impart. Her
soul was searching among ancient things. Her face brought the Desert
back into his thoughts. And with it came--the sand.

Here was the flash. The sight of her restored the peace and splendour he
had left behind him in his Desert camps. The rest, of course, was what
his imagination constructed upon this slender basis. Only,--not all of
it was imagination.

Now, Henriot knew little enough of women, and had no pose of
"understanding" them. His experience was of the slightest; the love and
veneration felt for his own mother had set the entire sex upon the
heights. His affairs with women, if so they may be called, had been
transient--all but those of early youth, which having never known the
devastating test of fulfilment, still remained ideal and superb. There
was unconscious humour in his attitude--from a distance; for he regarded
women with wonder and respect, as puzzles that sweetened but complicated
life, might even endanger it. He certainly was not a marrying man! But
now, as he felt the presence of this woman so deliberately possess him,
there came over him two clear, strong messages, each vivid with
certainty. One was that banal suggestion of familiarity claimed by
lovers and the like--he had often heard of it--"I have known that woman
before; I have met her ages ago somewhere; she is strangely familiar to
me"; and the other, growing out of it almost: "Have nothing to do with
her; she will bring you trouble and confusion; avoid her, and be
warned";--in fact, a distinct presentiment.

Yet, although Henriot dismissed both impressions as having no shred of
evidence to justify them, the original clear judgment, as he studied her
extraordinary countenance, persisted through all denials The
familiarity, and the presentiment, remained. There also remained this
other--an