They moved with the last effort of complete exhaustion.  In the drooping head and dragging wings of each was written utter weariness, abject fatigue.  For a moment they hovered over the dahabiyeh and above the two young lovers, and then, like tired travellers who had reached their journey’s end, they spread their wings and sank to the muddy waters of the Nile and into the enveloping night.

“Some day,” said Ainsley, “I have a confession to make to you.”