“Very well then!  Get a small, light boat.  We shall go more quickly in that.  How long is Baroudi going to stay?”

“I dunno.”

“Try to find out.  Is Hamza with him?”

Ibrahim looked vicious.

“Hamza him there.  But Hamza very bad boy.  I not speak any more to Hamza.”

“Don’t forget!  Directly after dinner.”

She shut and relocked the door.

She took a hot bath, let down her hair, got into a wrapper, lay down, and tried to rest.  But her body twitched with desire for active movement, almost worn out though she was.  Again and again she got up, went out to the terrace, and looked at the Loulia.  She took her glasses and tried to discern Baroudi on the upper deck.  But she could not see him.  Presently she pulled a long chair out to the balcony, and was just going to lie down on it when she heard a knock on the door.

“Ruby!”

It was Nigel.  She felt inclined to rush across the room, to open the door, to seize him by the shoulders and thrust him out of the house, out of her life for ever.

“Ruby!”

“I am coming!” she said.

She waited an instant, striving for self-control.  Every nerve in her body seemed to be quivering.

“The door is locked.”

“I know.  I’m coming!  I’m coming!”

She set her teeth, went to the door, and unlocked it.

“Come in!  Come in, your importunate man!”

“Importunate!  But I haven’t seen you for three nights.  And I can’t get on without you, Ruby.  Thank God, to-night we shall be alone together.  After dinner I want you to play to me.”

Her face twitched.

“If I’m not too tired.”

“We’ll go to bed quite early.”

He shut the door.

“I’ll come and sit in here with you.  I want to take your opinion about this cheque to Isaacson.”

He sighed heavily.

He had a pencil and some paper in his hands, and he sat down by a table.

“I must get this off my mind.  After what has happened, I must pay Isaacson, though otherwise I think we—­” He sighed again.  “Let me see, when did he first come on board to take care of me?”

* * * * *

That day went by slowly, slowly, with feet of lead.  Whether she would endure to its end without some hysterical outburst of temper Mrs. Armine did not know.  She seemed to herself to be clinging frantically to the last fragments of her self-control.  For so long she had acted a part, that it would be tragic to break down feebly, contemptibly, now close to the end of the drama.