“Ruby Armine.”

She wrote in French, sealed the envelope, and told the waiter to have it taken at once by a messenger.  Then she ordered coffee and rolls to be sent in half an hour, and took a hot bath.  How she wished that she had a clever maid with her!  It was maddening to have no help except that of a clumsy Swiss housemaid, and she now saw, with horror, that she was haggard.  She scarcely recognized her own face.  Instead of looking younger than she was, it seemed to her now that she looked older, much older.  She was shocked by her appearance.

But she had had a night journey and had not slept, and every woman looks old after a night journey.  She would be all right when she had rested.  On arriving she had engaged a sitting-room.  She went into it and had breakfast, then asked for newspapers, and lay down on the sofa to read.  At every moment she expected the return of her messenger to Baroudi.  He came at last.

“Have you brought a note?” she asked, starting up on the sofa.

The messenger said no; the gentleman was not in.

“Did you leave the note?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You can go back presently.  Go back at twelve, and see if the gentleman has come in.  He may come in for lunch.  Stay till lunch-time and see.  I want an answer.”

The man went away.  Slowly the morning passed.  Twelve o’clock came, but the messenger did not return.  Mrs. Armine had lunch in her room, but she could scarcely eat anything.  After lunch she ordered very strong coffee.  As she was drinking her second cup, there was a tap on the door.  She cried, “Come in,” and the messenger reappeared.

“Well?” she said.  “Well?”

The man looked at her as if her voice had startled him.

“The gentleman has not come in, ma’am.”

“When is he coming in?”

“I don’t know, ma’am.”

“Is he in Cairo?”

“I don’t know, ma’am.”

“What do you know?  What’s the good of you?  What are you here for?  Go back at once, and find out whether the gentleman is in Cairo or not.”

The messenger went out rather hurriedly.

Mrs. Armine was shaking.  She had felt inclined to attack the man, to beat him for his stupidity, as slaves are often beaten by their masters when they do wrong.  When she was alone, she uttered two or three incoherent exclamations.  Her body was burning with a sort of cruel, dry heat.  She felt parched all over.  An hour passed, and at length she again heard a tap.  The messenger came in, and very sulkily said: 

“The gentleman was in Cairo last night, ma’am.”

“What I want to know is whether he is in Cairo now!” she exclaimed, angrily.

“They don’t know, ma’am.”

“Don’t know!  They must know!”

“They don’t know, ma’am.”

“I tell you they must know!”

“They don’t know, ma’am.”

She sprang up, tingling.  She didn’t know what she was going to do, but as she faced him the expression in the messenger’s eyes recalled her to a sense of the proprieties.  Without another word, she gave him some money and turned her back on him.  When she heard the door close, she no longer controlled herself, until suddenly once more she remembered her ravaged face.