cold water. She had been prepared for anything but this calm
nonchalance in a situation that was intolerable. His tone conveyed the
perfunctory regret of a host for an unavoidable absence. Her fear gave
way to rage, her body stiffened, her hands clenched.

"Is it not time that this ended? Haven't you done enough?" she burst
out passionately. "Why have you committed this outrage?"

A thin thread of smoke drifted towards her, as if the hand holding the
cigarette had moved in her direction in one of the gestures that she
had noticed outside, but there was no answer. His silence infuriated
her and she grew utterly reckless.

"Do you think that you can keep me here, you fool? That I can vanish
into the desert and no notice be taken of my disappearance--that no
inquiries will be made?"

"There will be no inquiries," he answered calmly.

She ground the heel of her boot into the soft carpet. "There
_will_ be inquiries," she choked furiously. "I am not such a
nonentity that nothing will be done when I am missed. The English
authorities will make the French Government find out who is
responsible, and you will have to pay for what you have done."

He laughed--the little amused laugh that sent the same cold feeling of
dread through her that she had felt the day before.

"The French Government has no jurisdiction over me. I am not subject to
it. I am an independent chief, my own master. I recognise no