ng for the first time with you, so I shall always
associate it with you."

He drew a little nearer to her. And she understood and could reply to
the demand which prompted that movement.

"We must drink Nile water together, Ruby, Nile water--in all the
different ways. I'll take you to the tombs of the Kings, and to the
Colossi when the sun is setting. And when the moon comes, we'll go to
Karnak. I believe you'll love it all as I do. One can never tell, of
course, for another. But--but do you think you'll love it all with me?"

Mingled with the ardour and the desire there was a hint in his voice of
anxiety, of the self-doubt which, in certain types of natures, is the
accompaniment of love.

"I know I shall love it all--with you," she said.

She let her hand fall into his, and as his hand closed upon it she was
physically moved. There was in Nigel something that attracted her
physically, that attracted her at certain moments very strongly. In the
life that was to come she must sweep away all interference with that.

"And some day," he said, "some day I shall take you to see night fall
over the Sphinx, the most wonderful thing in Egypt and perhaps in the
whole world. We can do that on our way to or from the Fayyum when we
have to pass through Cairo, as soon as I've arranged something for you."

"You think of everything, Nigel."

"Do you like to be thought for?"

"No woman ever lived that did not."

She softly pressed his hand. Then she lifted it and held it on her knee.

Presently she saw him look up at the stars, and she felt sure that he
was connecting her with them, was thinking of her as something almost
ideal, or, if not that, as something that might in time become almost
ideal.

"I am not a star," she said.

He did not make any answer.

"Nigel, never be so absurd as to think of me as a star!"

He suddenly looked around at her.

"What do you say, Ruby?"

"Nothing."

"But I heard you speak."

"It must have been the sailors singing. I was looking up at the stars.
How wonderful they are!"

As she spoke, she moved very slightly, letting her cloak fall open so
that her long throat was exposed.

"And how beautifully warm it is!"

He looked at her throat, and sighed, seemed to hesitate, and then bent
suddenly down as if he were going to kiss it.

"Al-lah!"

Almost fiercely the nasal voice of the singing boatman who gave out the
solo part of the song of the Nile came over the garden from the riv