“I may.”

“All these things are done so easily now.”

“Yes.”

“The railway has made everything so simple.”

“Yes.”

“I’d give worlds to go to Khartoum.  People say it’s much more interesting than anything up to the First Cataract.”

“Then why not go there?”

“Perhaps we may.  But not just yet.  Nigel isn’t in the mood for anything of that kind.  Besides, wouldn’t it look almost indecent?  Travelling for pleasure, sight-seeing, so soon afterwards?  It’s a little dull for me, of course, but I think Nigel’s quite right to lie low and see no one just for two or three weeks.”

“May I light a cigar?”

“Of course.”

Rather slowly Meyer Isaacson drew out his cigar-case, extracted a large cigar, struck a match, and lit it.  His preoccupation with what he was doing, which seemed perfectly natural, saved him from the necessity of talking for a minute.  When the cigar drew thoroughly, he spoke again.

“You don’t think”—­he spoke slowly, almost lazily, as if he were too content to care much either way about anything under heaven or earth—­“you don’t think your husband would wish to see me, as we are so very near?  We’ve known each other pretty well.  And just now you seemed to fancy he might almost be vexed at my coming out to Egypt without letting him know.”

“That’s just it,” she said, with an answering laziness and indifference.  “If he had been expecting you, possibly it mightn’t hurt him in the least to see you.  But Doctor Baring Hartley specially enjoined on me to keep him quite quiet—­at any rate till we got to Assouan.  Any shock, even one of pleasure, must be avoided.”

“Really?  I’m afraid from that that he must really be pretty bad.”

“Oh, no, he isn’t.  He looks worse than he is.  It’s given him a bad colour, rather, and he gets easily tired.  But he was ever so much worse a week ago.  He’s picking up now every day.”

“That’s good.”

“He would go out digging at Thebes in the very heat of the day.  I begged him not to, but Nigel is a little bit wilful.  The result is I’ve had to nurse him.”

“It’s spoilt your trip, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, as long as I get him well quickly, that doesn’t matter.”

“It will seem quite odd to pass by him without giving him a call,” said Isaacson, retaining his casual manner and lazy, indifferent demeanour.  “For I suppose I shall pass.  You’re not going up immediately?”

“We may.  I don’t know at all.  If he wishes to go, we shall go.  I shall do just what he wants.”

“If you start off, then I shall be in your wake.”

“Yes.”

She moved her umbrella slightly to and fro.