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Glyn, Elinor, 1864-1943

"His Hour"

The pyramids
appeared an old rose pink, and everything else in tones of
sapphire--not the green-blue of moonlight in other countries. All was
breathlessly still and lifeless. Only they two, and the camel boys,
alone in the night.
The dark line of trees which border the road faced them, and they rode
slowly in that direction.
"You are going to the hotel, I suppose?" he said. "I will see you
safely to it."
And they climbed the bank on to the avenue from Cairo.
"And you?" Tamara could not prevent herself from asking. "Where do you
go?"
"To hell, sometimes," he answered, and his eyes were full of mist, "but
tonight I shall go to bed for a change."
Tamara was nonplussed. She felt intensely commonplace. She was even a
little cross with herself. Why had she asked a question?
The Arab horse now took it into his head to curvet and bound in the air
for no apparent reason, but the young man did not stir an inch--he
laughed.
"Go on, my beauty," he said. "I like you to be so. It shows you are
alive."
As they approached the hotel, Tamara began to hope no one would see
them. No one who could tell Millicent that she had a companion. She
bent down and said rather primly to the young man who was again at her
side:
"I am quite safe now, thank you. I need not trouble you any further.
Good-bye! and I am so obliged to you for showing me a new way home.


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