Nature. When I was in London, before I asked you to marry me, I thought
of you at Sennoures. My camp used to be pitched near water, and at
night, when the men slept covered up in their rugs and bits of sacking,
and the camels lay in a line, with their faces towards the men's tent,
eating, I used to come out, alone and listen to the frogs singing. It's
like the note of a flute, and they keep it up all night, the beggars.
You shall come out beside that water, and you shall hear it with me.
It's odd how a little thing like that stirs up one's imagination. Why,
even just thinking of that flute of the Egyptian Pan in the night--" He
broke off with a sound that was not quite a laugh, but that held
laughter and something else. "We've got, please God, a grand winter
ahead of us, Ruby," he finished. "And far away from the world."

"Far--far away from the world!"

She repeated his words rather slowly.

"I must have some more coffee," she added, with a change of tone.

"Take care. You mayn't be able to sleep."

"Nigel--do you want me to sleep to-night?"

He looked at her, but he did not answer.

"Even if I don't sleep I must have it. Besides I always sit up late."

"But to-night you're tired."

"Never mind. I must have the coffee."