"London, later, of course. Cathedrals, lakes and universities—then London."
"I shall be in London," said McLean thoughtfully, "in June.... If you are not too occupied—"
"With cathedrals?" said Miss Jeffries.
"Where are the things?" demanded Ryder ruthlessly, and thus recalled, Jinny produced the bag.
McLean moved toward the door. "We might go and mount guard in the corridor," he suggested, and he and Jinny stepped outside, back into the everyday world of Egypt where nothing at all had been happening but the arrival of a caravan from the excavations.
Within the room Ryder stooped and lifted the girl from the case and set her lightly on the floor. Ruefully she shook out the torn chiffons of that French audacity of a robe, and with a whimsical smile surveyed the soiled little slippers that she had discarded in her disguise when she had ridden behind the turbaned Ryder upon the Arab horse.
So little time ago, and yet so long away—
Under her long lashes she looked up at the young man, who had set the old life crumbling about her at a touch. Wistfulness edged the brave smile with which she murmured, "And so it is all arranged—so quick. I am safe—I go to the hotel with that nice girl—"
"And I won't be able to see you," he said suddenly.
"But you have seen me, monsieur, these many days—"