“Sorry I can’t,” said Cecil.
“Oh, but——” Eve Fincastle began, and stopped.
“Of course you can,” said Kitty imperiously. “You must. We leave to-morrow—we’re only here for two days—for Algiers and France. Another two days in Paris, and then London, my darling London, and work! So it’s understood?”
“It desolates me,” said Cecil. “But I can’t go with you to Sidi Okba to-day.”
They both saw that he meant to refuse them.
“That settles it, then,” Eve agreed quietly.
“You’re horrid, Mr. Thorold,” said the bewitching actress. “And if you imagine for a single moment we haven’t seen that you’ve been keeping out of our way, you’re mistaken. You must have noticed us at the station. Eve thinks you’ve got another of your——”
“No, I don’t, Kitty,” said Eve quickly.
“If Miss Fincastle suspects that I’ve got another of my——” he paused humorously, “Miss Fincastle is right. I have got another of my—— I throw myself on your magnanimity. I am staying in Biskra under the name of Collins, and my time, like my name, is not my own.”
“In that case,” Eve remarked, “we will pass on.”