There was a curious lifelessness in the whole situation, and a quite distressing lack of drama until the oriental smiled contemptuously.
"Do not think to frighten me with that plaything, because I am totally unafraid. We hear of the Englishwomen who shoot and ride like men, but—well! we hear so many tales of Europe. Put up your little toy, Mademoiselle, and remember in future that no one with any respect for his life ever gives me an order!"
With an indifference that was not in the least assumed, he raised the cup he was still holding.
There was a crashing report in the luxurious room, a tinkling of broken china, and a wisp of smoke between a smiling girl and a very surprised man.
"Don't be a fool, and do as you're told if you have any respect for your life," said Jill tersely, as she moved her hand slightly so that her aim was on a dead level with a big button ornamenting an inch or so of satin on the middle left of the man's undervest.
He stood like an image carved out of consternation, whilst streaks of rage seemed to flash across his livid face. Be it confessed, he was not in the least afraid, but no word in the Egyptian or any other tongue could be found to express the depths of humiliation in which he stood neck deep.
"Now, drink this coffee!" said Jill pleasantly, pointing with her left hand to the cup she had placed on the little table.
"Never!"
Jill smiled icily.
"I thought as much. You scoundrel! So it is drugged, and I, having drunk it, would have lain unconscious at your mercy. God! to think that such brutes as you are allowed to live."