"Will you have anything?"

"No, thanks."

Nigel sat down in an arm-chair.

"I've seen so little of you, Isaacson. And I'm going away to-morrow."

"You've had enough of it?"

"More than enough."

Isaacson was sitting by a table on which lay a number of books. Now and
then he touched one with his long and sallow fingers, lifted its cover,
then let it drop mechanically.

"You are coming back in the autumn?"

"For some days, in passing through. I'm going to Egypt again."

"I envy you--I envy you."

As he looked at Nigel's Northern fairness, and thought of his own
darkness, it seemed to him that he should be going to the sun, Nigel
remaining in the lands where the light is pale. Perhaps a somewhat
similar thought occurred to Nigel, for he said:

"You ought to go there some day. You'd be in your right place there.
Have you ever been?"