"It's a prosaic little request I have to make. I only want you to let me take the night train and run up to Cairo."
His face fell. He stretched out his hand to touch hers.
"Go away! Go to Cairo!" he said.
And his voice was reluctant.
"Yes, Nigel," she said, with gentle firmness. "I've been looking over my wardrobe these last days, and I'm simply in rags."
"But your dresses—"
"It's not only my dresses—I really am in rags. Won't you let me go just for two days to get a few things I actually need? I'm not going to spend a lot of money."
"As if it was that!"
He pressed her hand, and his pressure showed his returning strength.
"It's being without you."