"There is a girl at Aswàn who is like the full moon," murmured Baroudi.
She realized his absolute liberty, and a heat as of fire swept over the cold. But she only said, with a smile:
"Why don't you sail for Aswàn to-night?"
"There is time," he answered. "She will not leave Aswàn until I choose for her to go."
"And are there full moons at Armant, and Esneh, and Kom Ombos?"
She seemed to be lightly laughing at him.
"At Esneh—no; at Kom Ombos—no."
"And Armant?"
A sharpness had crept into her lazy voice.
"There are French at Armant, and where the French come the little women come."