"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.
This night must see its end. For her powers were exhausted. She meant to tell Baroudi so. He must take her away now, or let her join him somewhere. But in any case she must get away from her life with Nigel. She could no longer play the devoted wife, safe at last, after many trials, in the arms of respectability. It was only by making a cruel effort that she was able to get through the day without rousing suspicion in Nigel. And to-day he was curiously observant of her. His eyes seemed to be always upon her, watching her with a look she could not quite understand. He never left her for a moment, and sometimes she had a strange sensation that, like herself, he was on the verge of--what--some self-revelation? Some confession? Some perhaps emotional laying bare of his heart? She did not know. But she did know that he was not in a normal state. And once or twice she wondered what had been the exact truth of the quarrel with Isaacson. But, at any rate, it had not been the truth in which she was concerned. And she was too frightfully intent upon herself to-day to be very curious, even about Isaacson's relations with her husband.