"And our Consulate is all right, if needed, whatever it is. You've
played a square game in Egypt. You're the only man in office who hasn't
got rich out of her, and--"

"I'm not in office."

"You're the power behind the throne, you're--"

"I'm helpless--worse than helpless, Yankee. I've spent years of my life
here. I've tried to be of some use, and play a good game for England;
and keep a conscience too, but it's been no real good. I've only staved
off the crash. I'm helpless, now. That's why I'm here."

He leaned forward, and looked out of the minaret and down towards the
great locked gates of the empty mosque.

Renshaw put his hand on Dicky's shoulder. "It's the man in white yonder
you're after?"

Dicky nodded. "It was no use as long as she lived. But she's dead--her
face was under that old Persian shawl--and I'm going to try it on."

"Try what on?"

"Last night I heard she was sick. I heard at noon to-day that she was
gone; and then I got you to come out and see the view!"

"What are you going to do with him?"