“What is?”
“All you are doing, the way you are taking it all.”
“What other way is there of taking such a thing?”
“Will you come with me to Eyub to-morrow?”
“It was written long ago that I am to go there with you. I’m quite sure of that.”
“I’ll tell you what I mean there to-morrow.”
She looked towards the window.
“It’s like the roar of hell,” he said.
And he went away.
That night Mrs. Clarke dined alone downstairs in the restaurant. The cooking at the Hotel de Paris was famous, and attracted many men from the Embassies. Presently Cyril Vane, one of the secretaries at the British Embassy, came in to dine. He had with him a young Turkish gentleman, who was called away by an agent from the Palace in the middle of dinner. Vane, thus left alone, presently got up and came to Mrs. Clarke’s table.