determined not to be the first to shift his gaze. And when at length she
lowered her eyes he felt that many things had happened, as in a long
period of intimate conversation. Her mind had judged him through and
through. Questions and answer flashed. They were no longer strangers.
For the rest of dinner, though he was careful to avoid direct
inspection, he was aware that she felt his presence and was secretly
speaking with him. She asked questions beneath her breath. The answers
rose with the quickened pulses in his blood. Moreover, she explained
Richard Vance. It was this woman's power that shone reflected in the
man. She was the one who knew the big, unusual things. Vance merely
echoed the rush of her vital personality.

This was the first impression that he got--from the most striking,
curious face he had ever seen in a woman. It remained very near him all
through the meal: she had moved to his table, it seemed she sat beside
him. Their minds certainly knew contact from that moment.

It is never difficult to credit strangers with the qualities and
knowledge that oneself craves for, and no doubt Henriot's active fancy
went busily to work. But, none the less, this thing remained and grew:
that this woman was aware of the hidden things of Egypt he had always
longed to know. There was knowledge and guidance she could impart. Her
soul was searching among ancient things. Her face brought the Desert
back into his thoughts. And with it came--the sand.

Here was the flash. The sight of her restored the peace and splendour he
had left behind him in his Desert camps. The rest, of course, was what
his imagination constructed upon this slender basis. Only,--not all of
it was imagination.