"Come down here first," she called.
"Right!"
The coffee-making was finished. Hamza got up from his haunches, lifted up the brazier, and went softly away, carrying it with a nonchalant ease almost as if it were a cardboard counterfeit weighing nothing.
In a moment Nigel came into the dim room of the fountain.
"Where are you? Oh, there! We mustn't miss our first sunset."
"Coffee!" she said, smiling.
He came out on to the balcony, and she gave him one of the little cups.
"Did you make it yourself?"
"No. But I will to-morrow. Hamza has been showing me how to."
He took the cup.