"By God! I'll put you out!"
Grasping the arms of his chair, he stood up and he advanced upon Isaacson.
"I'll go. But I'll leave you that!"
And Isaacson drew from his pocket the letter Mrs. Armine had sent by the felucca, and laid it on the coffee-table.
Then he turned quickly, and went away through the dark garden.
Before he was out of sight of the house, he looked back. Nigel had sunk upon his chair in a collapsed attitude.
From the western bank of the Nile came the shrill, attenuated sound of the pipes, the deep throbbing of the daraboukkeh, the nasal chant of the Nubians.
And the lights of the Loulia were like a line of fiery eyes staring across the Nile.