‘Good God,’ he said. ‘A woman with an enquiring mind? Is it possible?’
I overlooked the insult, having become interested in what he was saying. I was about to pursue the subject further when there was a dramatic interruption.
Evelyn was sitting next to the sofa, with Walter leaning on the back of her chair. She suddenly started to her feet. Turning, I saw that her face had gone white as linen. She was staring with a fixed look of horror toward the entrance to the room.
I glanced about. The room was crowded with people, but I saw nothing that might explain her agitation. Before I could make a more searching perusal, Evelyn had collapsed onto the floor. When Walter, clumsy with agitation, managed to reach her and raise her in his arms, she was in a dead faint, from which she was restored with some difficulty.
She would not answer our questions; she was only capable of reiterating her desire to return to our rooms.
‘Let me carry you,’ Walter begged. ‘You are no burden; you cannot walk – ’
He put out his arms. She shrank back, as if he had offered to strike her.
‘No, no,’ she gasped. ‘Amelia will help me. I can walk, indeed I can. Pray do not touch me.’
Poor Walter was as white as Evelyn. But there was nothing to be done but accede to her wishes. She walked, falteringly, but without any assistance except mine, to the stairs. As we started up, I had only time to assure Walter that I would let him know next morning how Evelyn was, if he cared to come by.
My maid was waiting when we reached our rooms. Evelyn rejected her attentions, which were given grudgingly enough; she seemed to shrink from any company but mine, but still refused to tell me what was wrong. At her request, I dismissed Travers, telling her to go to bed.
‘I believe I will send Travers home,’ I said, seeking to strike a casual note, since Evelyn would not talk of the matter uppermost in both our minds. ‘She hates everything – the country, the Egyptians, the boat – ’
‘And me,’ said Evelyn, with a faint smile.
‘She doesn’t think highly of me, either,’ I said, pleased to see Evelyn regaining her spirits. ‘We can manage without her quite nicely. I shall make arrangements tomorrow. Evelyn, won’t you tell me now – ’
‘Later,’ Evelyn said. ‘I will explain later, Amelia, when I have…. Won’t you return to the saloon? You were having such a nice talk with Mr Emerson. I am sure he is still there. You might reassure him and his…. You might reassure them, and make my apologies. I am well; I only need rest. I will go straight to bed. I really am quite well.’
This speech, delivered in a rapid monotone, was quite unlike the girl I had come to know. I looked at her searchingly; she refused to meet my eyes. I started to speak, fully prepared to break down a reticence which now alarmed me; then came a loud knock at the door of the sittingroom.
Evelyn started convulsively. A renewed pallor spread over her face. I stared at her, too bewildered to speak. Who could this visitor be, who knocked so peremptorily? And at such an hour! It was not too late for evening social activities, but it was certainly too late for anyone to be coming to our rooms. I could not believe that Walter’s anxiety would drive him to such a step. Moreover, it was clear from Evelyn’s demeanour that she suspected who the visitor might be, and that her suspicion caused her deep dread.
Her eyes met mine. Her shoulders straightened, and she set her lips in a firm line before she opened them to speak. ‘Open the door, Amelia, if you will be so good. I am being a miserable coward. I must face this.’
I suppose her speech conveyed a clue to my mind. I remember I felt no surprise when I opened the door and saw the man who stood there. I had never seen him before, but his swarthy complexion, his sleek black hair, his bold good looks confirmed the suspicion Evelyn’s manner had aroused.
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘Signor Alberto, I
I overlooked the insult, having become interested in what he was saying. I was about to pursue the subject further when there was a dramatic interruption.
Evelyn was sitting next to the sofa, with Walter leaning on the back of her chair. She suddenly started to her feet. Turning, I saw that her face had gone white as linen. She was staring with a fixed look of horror toward the entrance to the room.
I glanced about. The room was crowded with people, but I saw nothing that might explain her agitation. Before I could make a more searching perusal, Evelyn had collapsed onto the floor. When Walter, clumsy with agitation, managed to reach her and raise her in his arms, she was in a dead faint, from which she was restored with some difficulty.
She would not answer our questions; she was only capable of reiterating her desire to return to our rooms.
‘Let me carry you,’ Walter begged. ‘You are no burden; you cannot walk – ’
He put out his arms. She shrank back, as if he had offered to strike her.
‘No, no,’ she gasped. ‘Amelia will help me. I can walk, indeed I can. Pray do not touch me.’
Poor Walter was as white as Evelyn. But there was nothing to be done but accede to her wishes. She walked, falteringly, but without any assistance except mine, to the stairs. As we started up, I had only time to assure Walter that I would let him know next morning how Evelyn was, if he cared to come by.
My maid was waiting when we reached our rooms. Evelyn rejected her attentions, which were given grudgingly enough; she seemed to shrink from any company but mine, but still refused to tell me what was wrong. At her request, I dismissed Travers, telling her to go to bed.
‘I believe I will send Travers home,’ I said, seeking to strike a casual note, since Evelyn would not talk of the matter uppermost in both our minds. ‘She hates everything – the country, the Egyptians, the boat – ’
‘And me,’ said Evelyn, with a faint smile.
‘She doesn’t think highly of me, either,’ I said, pleased to see Evelyn regaining her spirits. ‘We can manage without her quite nicely. I shall make arrangements tomorrow. Evelyn, won’t you tell me now – ’
‘Later,’ Evelyn said. ‘I will explain later, Amelia, when I have…. Won’t you return to the saloon? You were having such a nice talk with Mr Emerson. I am sure he is still there. You might reassure him and his…. You might reassure them, and make my apologies. I am well; I only need rest. I will go straight to bed. I really am quite well.’
This speech, delivered in a rapid monotone, was quite unlike the girl I had come to know. I looked at her searchingly; she refused to meet my eyes. I started to speak, fully prepared to break down a reticence which now alarmed me; then came a loud knock at the door of the sittingroom.
Evelyn started convulsively. A renewed pallor spread over her face. I stared at her, too bewildered to speak. Who could this visitor be, who knocked so peremptorily? And at such an hour! It was not too late for evening social activities, but it was certainly too late for anyone to be coming to our rooms. I could not believe that Walter’s anxiety would drive him to such a step. Moreover, it was clear from Evelyn’s demeanour that she suspected who the visitor might be, and that her suspicion caused her deep dread.
Her eyes met mine. Her shoulders straightened, and she set her lips in a firm line before she opened them to speak. ‘Open the door, Amelia, if you will be so good. I am being a miserable coward. I must face this.’
I suppose her speech conveyed a clue to my mind. I remember I felt no surprise when I opened the door and saw the man who stood there. I had never seen him before, but his swarthy complexion, his sleek black hair, his bold good looks confirmed the suspicion Evelyn’s manner had aroused.
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘Signor Alberto, I
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