Circles to put on Peche Melba airs in the desert. With a few
quotations, I should make them content with a loaf of bread, a cup of
wine, and Thing-um-Bob. Why, they'd be falling in love with each other
under the desert stars, and my principal occupation would be saying,
"Bless you, my children!"

Sounded neat; and I remembered that, according to Brigit, Monny wanted
the "desert to take her." Thought it might be useful if I were on in
that act. Abyssmal beast of a dragoman who lurks round Mena House
buoyed me up with false hopes. Said he had a fine outfit which he let,
and threw himself in as guide. Plenty of everything (including cheek)
for fifteen people, the exact number who have put down their names to
go. (Some girls and parents are staying for a ball at the Semiramis,
where I've tearfully persuaded the only soft-hearted officers I know to
dance with them--otherwise the lot would have been on my hands in the
desert.) Had so much to do yesterday taking the crowd to Matariyeh,
where the Holy Family hid in a hollow tree, that I had no time to look
at the Arab's outfit. Was inclined to save trouble and trust him, but
saw Anthony a minute last night; he urged me to inspect everything. Did
so early this morning. Rotten outfit: tents like old patchwork quilts,
pots and pans, etc., probably bought job lot from Noah when the Ark was
docked. Those keenest on desert "taking" them, will be mad as hatters
if it takes them in. Suppose I'll have to interview half the Arabs in
Cairo to-day. Wish I had a Ka or Ba or whatever you get for an astral
body in Egypt, and I could say to it, "Here, my dear chap, I trust you
to do this job while I stay in Cairo and rest my features." Then he'd
get the blame, and I'd disappear, never to be seen again. Or if he were
a Ka with Cook accomplishments, maybe he'd bring the thing off all
right, in which case I could turn up and take the credit and marry
Monny. Happy thought! Cook! Why shouldn't I sneak to Cook, and inquire