and dinner he returned to the attitude of dispassionate, courteous host
that he had assumed when he first came in. He was a few minutes late,
and apologised gravely as he sat down opposite her. He maintained the
attitude throughout dinner, and conscious of the watching manservant
Diana made herself reply to his easy conversation.

He talked mainly of the desert and the sport that it offered, as if he
had studied her tastes and chosen the topic to please her. He spoke
well; what he said was interesting, and showed complete knowledge of
the subject, and at any other time Diana would have listened fascinated
and absorbed, but now the soft, slow, cultured voice only seemed to add
to the incongruity of the situation. The role of willing guest that he
was forcing upon her was almost more than she could play, and the
necessity of sitting still and responding was taxing her endurance to
the utmost. And all the time she was aware acutely of his constant
surveillance. Reluctantly her own furtive glance was drawn frequently
to his face, and always his dark fierce eyes were watching her with a
steadiness that racked her nerves, till she was reminded irresistibly
of an exhibition that she had seen in a circus in Vienna, where a lion
tamer had concluded an unusually daring performance by dining in the
lions' cage, surrounded by savage snarling brutes very different from
the sleepy half-drugged creatures ordinarily shown. Interested in the
animals, she had gone behind with Aubrey after the performance, and
while fondling some tiny lion cubs that had been brought for her to see
had chatted with the tamer, a girl little older than herself. She had
been somewhat unapproachable until she had realised from Diana's
friendly manner that her questions were prompted by real interest and
not mere curiosity, and had unbent with surprising swiftness, accepting
Diana's proffered cigarettes and taking her to see her special lions,
who were boxed for the night. Diana had wandered up and down before the