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Isaacson, she supposed, would bring her husband back to health, unless even now she found means to get rid of him. And Baroudi, what would he do? She looked across the river and saw the blue light. Why was the Loulia tied up there? Was Baroudi coming up to join her? If he did come! She walked faster, quite unconscious that she had quickened her pace.
Her terror, a terror which had never left her during these days and nights on the dahabeeyah, was that her beauty might fade before she was free to go to Baroudi. She knew now how strongly she had fascinated him, despite his seeming, almost cruel imperturbability.
Baroudi he doos very many things." "I want to know what he has been doing. I must, I will know." The spell of place, the spell of the great and frigid silence, was suddenly and completely broken. Mrs. Armine stood up in the sand. She was losing her self-control.
His face, as he looked at her, was a refusal to reply, and so it was not a denial. "Live for the day as it comes," he said, "and do not think about to-morrow." "That is my philosophy. But when you are thinking about to-morrow?" Again she thought of Hamza, and she seemed to see those two, Baroudi and Hamza, starting together on the great pilgrimage.
"Can you manage to row me across to the Loulia without help?" "My lady, I am as strong as Rameses the Second." "Very well then! Get a small, light boat. We shall go more quickly in that. How long is Baroudi going to stay?" "I dunno." "Try to find out. Is Hamza with him?" Ibrahim looked vicious. "Hamza him there. But Hamza very bad boy. I not speak any more to Hamza." "Don't forget!
Hamza came in at the door. Baroudi spoke to him quickly in Arabic. A torrent of words that sounded angry, as Arabic words do to those from the Western world, rushed out of his throat. What did they mean? Mrs. Armine did not know. But she did know that her fate was in them. Hamza said nothing, only made her a sign to follow him. But she stood still. "Baroudi!" she said.
But the best of it is that the Dane to this day swears by Baroudi, and thinks it was his own folly that did for him. There are much worse things than that, though. Baroudi's a man who would stick at absolutely nothing once he got the madness for a woman into his body. For instance "
Armine, with his left knee touching the rug and his right knee raised with his napkin laid over it, a basin of hammered brass with a cover, and a brass jug. Baroudi held forth his hands, and Aïyoub poured water upon them, which disappeared into the basin through holes pierced in the cover.
There she turned round, with her back to the light that came in through the narrow doorways leading to the balcony. Baroudi had shut the door by which they had come in, and had pulled over it a heavy orange-coloured curtain, which she now saw for the first time.
And I told him about the dahabeeyah, what a marvel it is, and about Baroudi, and how Ibrahim put Baroudi up to the idea of letting it to us." "I see." "How these chairs creak!" he said. "Yours is making a regular row." She got up. "You aren't going down again?" "No. Let us walk about." "All right."
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