He pushed a chair for her. They sat.
“I must speak to you, once and for all,” he said.
“Don’t you think it’s rather public?”
“The Indian is going,” he replied, with an indicating gesture, “and the people too. It’s too hot for them to sit out here.”
“Then what about me?” she asked.
He sprang to his feet with an apology. She laughed.
“Never mind. We are as well here as anywhere. Sit down. Now, why this sudden tragic resolution?”
“An accidental word from Fortinbras. He called me a Soldier of Fortune. The term isn’t pretty. You are a woman of great wealth. I am a man practically penniless. I have no position, no profession. I am what the world calls an adventurer.”
She protested. “That’s nonsense. You have been absolutely honest with me from first to last.” ’
“Honest in so far as I’ve not concealed my material situation. But honourable? . . . If you had known in Brantôme that I had already dared to love you, would you have suggested my coming to Egypt?”