“He won’t be so pleased when he learns how I wasted a perfectly good Nile ticket,” she remarked.  “And Big Brother is rather fierce when he isn’t pleased.”

His eyes smiled, as if he understood and despised her suggestion.  “Cairo and your America are not so near,” he observed negligently, “that an incident here is a matter of immediate knowledge there.”

She felt the danger of seeming to threaten him.  “Oh, I’d ’fess up,” she said lightly, playing with her food.  “There—­shoo—­go away!” she cried suddenly, with a militant gesture about her plate.  “That’s one thing I hate about Egypt—­the flies!”

“I hope that is the only thing you hate,” said the young man blandly.

“Isn’t that enough?  There are so many of them!”

He laughed with real amusement at her petulance.  “Is there netting enough in your room?” he inquired.  “Would you like more for your bed?”

“Oh, no, I’m all right, thank you.  The flies are chiefly bothersome at meals.  This is certainly their paradise.”

“But is there anything you would like—­to make you happy here?  I will get it for you.  Would you not like some books, some music, some new clothes——­”

“I don’t wonder you ask!  But really this white gown will last a little longer—­Cairo is so clean.  No, thank you, there is nothing I need bother you about—­Oh, yes, there really is one book that I would like—­a Turkish or an Arabic dictionary.  I have always meant to learn a little of the language and this would seem the opportunity.”

In the pause in which he appeared to be consuming pigeon she could feel him weighing her request, foreseeing its results.

“I shall be most happy to teach you,” was what he said, but she knew she would never have that dictionary.  And so one plan of the morning went flying to the winds.  But she snatched at the next opening she saw and plunged into interested questions about the Turkish language, asking the words for such things as seemed spontaneously to occur to her—­wall, palace, table—­numbers—­days of the week—­repeating the pronunciation with the earnestness of a diligent young pupil, until she felt that her memory had all it could hold.  And distrust, always ready now like a prompter in the box, suggested most upsettingly that perhaps he was not giving the right words.  She resolved to experiment upon Mariayah.

He reverted, with increasing emphasis, upon his desire to make her happy in the palace, to surround her with whatever she desired, and swiftly she availed herself of this second opening.

“Yes, indeed, there is something that would make me happier, if you don’t mind, please,” she added with a droll assumption of meekness.  “You don’t know how horrid it is for me to be caged in one room and not be out of doors, and I would love to come down into the garden when I want to.  Won’t you give me a key to that door?  That is, if it is always locked.”