At lunch in the great Arabic hall officers from the garrisons of Cairo and Abbassieh, and their womenkind, were in great force.  Acquaintances of Nigel’s sat at little tables to the right and left of them.  In other parts of the room were scattered various well-known English people, who stared at Mrs. Armine when they chose to imagine she did not see them.  Not far off Lord and Lady Hayman and the Murchisons reappeared.

A more effective irritant to Mrs. Armine’s temper and nerves at this moment than this collection of people afforded could scarcely have been devised by her most subtle enemy.  But not by a glance or movement did she betray the fact.  She had had time to recover herself, to regain perfect outward self-control.  But within her a storm was raging.  Into the chamber of her soul, borne upon the wings of the wind, were flocking the ginnees out of the dense darkness of night.  And when the twilight came, throwing its pale mystery over the desert, and the wonders the desert kept, they had taken possession of her spirit.

The travellers who, during the day, had peopled the waste about the Pyramids had gone back to Cairo by tram and carriage, or were at tea in the hotel, when the Armines, mounted on donkeys, rode through the twilight towards the Sphinx.  They approached it from behind.  The wind had quite gone down, and though the evening was not warm, the sharpness of the morning had given place to a more gentle briskness that was in place among the sands.  Far off, across the plains and the Nile, the lights of Cairo gleamed against the ridges of the Mokattam.  Through the empty silence of this now deserted desert they rode in silence, till before them, above the grey waste of the sand, a protuberance arose.

“Do you see that, Ruby?” Nigel said, pulling at his donkey’s rein.

“That thing like a gigantic mushroom?  Yes.  What is it?”

“The Sphinx.”

“That!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, but only the back of its head.  All the body is concealed.  Wait till you’ve ridden round it and seen it from the front.”

She said nothing, and they rode on till they came to the edge of the deep basin in which the sacred monster lies with the sand and its ceaseless fame about it, till they had skirted the basin’s rim, and faced it full on the farther bank.  There they dismounted, and Nigel ordered their donkey-boys to lead the beasts away till they were out of earshot.  The dry sound of their tripping feet, over the stones and hard earth which edged the sand near by, soon died down into the twilight, and the Armines were left alone.

Although the light of day was rapidly failing, it had not entirely gone; day and night joined hands in a twilight mystery which seemed not only to fall from the sky, so soon to be peopled with stars, but also to rise from the pallor of the sands, and to float about the Sphinx.  In the distance the Great Pyramid was black against the void.