“Why was that?”

“He’d been reading all the notices about Harwich, and they’d utterly upset him.”

Suddenly she noticed the tiny drops of blood on her fingers.

“Oh!” she said.

She put her hand up to the front of her gown, drew out a handkerchief, and pressed her fingers with it.

“How stupid of me!”

Hamza appeared.

“Ah, the felucca is ready!” said Mrs. Armine.

Isaacson leaned back quietly, and made himself comfortable on the broad divan.

“In a minute, Hamza!” she said.

Hamza went away.

“That’s a marvellous fellow you’ve got,” said Isaacson.

Although he spoke almost under his breath, he managed to introduce into his voice the quiet sound of a man of the world very much at his ease, and with a pleasant half-hour before him.  “I saw him praying this afternoon.”

“Praying?”

“Yes, when he brought your note.”

A look of horror crept over her face, and was gone in an instant.

“Oh, all these people pray.”

She sat more forward on the divan, almost like one about to get up.  Isaacson crossed one leg over the other.

“What you told me this morning did make me uneasy about your husband,” he said, leaving the Mohammedan world abruptly.

“Then I must have spoken very carelessly,” she said, quickly.

All the time they were talking, she made perpetual slight movements, and was never perfectly still.

“Then you are not at all uneasy about his condition?”

“I—­I didn’t say that.  Naturally, a wife is a little anxious if her husband has been ill.  But he is so much better than he was that it would be foolish of me to be upset.”

“I confess this morning you roused my professional anxiety.”

“I really don’t see why.”

“Well, you know, we doctors become very alert about signs and symptoms.  And you let drop one or two words which made me fear that possibly your husband might be worse than you supposed.”

“Doctor Baring Hartley is in charge of the case.”

“Well, but he isn’t here!”

“He’s coming here to-morrow.”

“I understood he was waiting for you at Assouan.  You’ll forgive me for venturing to intrude into this affair, but as an old friend of your husband—­”

“Doctor Hartley is at Assouan, but he will come down to-morrow to see his patient.  You don’t seem to realize that Assouan is close by, just round the corner.”

“I know it is only a hundred and ten kilometres away.”

“In a steam launch or by train that’s absolutely nothing.  He’ll be here to-morrow.”

“Then your husband feels worse?”

“Not at all.”

“But if you’ve sent for Doctor Hartley?”

“I’ve only done that because instead of going up at once to Assouan, as we had intended, we’ve decided to remain here for the present.  Nigel enjoys the quiet, and I dare say it’s better for him.  You forget he’s just lost his only brother.”