Persian dawns, Egyptian nights

CAMELIA COMES TO CAIRO m
She stood up and the rest of us rose also. Miss
Adrian, with screwed-up eyes and smile un¬
waveringly pleasant, regarded her from head to
foot.
‘ And that illness that made you leave London ?
You never suffer from it now, do you, dear ? So
unpleasant! We were never quite sure what it was,
either.’
‘ No ? Oh, a very common complaint. Can I
give you a lift anywhere, M. Lubow ? ’
I had no indecision over that. For the one thing,
it seemed to me there was more than mere courtesy
in her offer; for another, Adrian had intimated to
me that my duties would not commence until the
morrow, and in the acid Miss Kate I found no
inducement to stay in gossip.
‘If you will.’
v
We collected then various small packages from
her chemist’s in the next street, and drove back
through the evening traffic, both of us silent and I
in a queer expectancy of I knew not what. I saw
Camelia Carson peer ahead with a little wry smile
upon her comely lips, and of a sudden heard myself
being questioned.
‘ Well, M. Lubow, do you like me ? ’
I think I was commendably prompt. ‘ Very
much.’
She nodded. She was very frankly pleased. It