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“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” Mona answered.

She longed to ask, “Why should I?” but remembered that they had some weeks together ahead of them. There was nothing to be gained by quarrelling.

“Of course you knew I’d be interested,” Char said impatiently. “You weren’t trying to push me off, were you? Have you come with some other friends?”

She looked suspiciously at Mona, who suddenly felt exceedingly bored with the whole situation. What a nuisance the woman was! Why couldn’t she go away and leave her alone? She had rather looked forward to the trip – to the long, lazy days ahead. There might have been some quite amusing people on board, new people she had not met before, and in all probability would never see again. It would have been a rest, an interlude, to associate with them and get away from her Cairo acquaintances, but now it was as if she had brought all Cairo with her in the person of Char Strathwyn.

She leant over the rail, feeling annoyed and yet wise enough not to show it.

“I wonder who’s on board?” Char chattered. “Sometimes there are some very decent people on these trips, rich ones, too. We might get up a game of poker.”

“I can’t afford to play.”

“Nor can I, but that’s all the more reason to find someone rich and stupid. If we could win their money, it would be a good holiday.”

They were moving now. The green palm trees bordering the banks of the river and the white roofs and minarets of the city looked fairy-tale-like in the haze that was rising above them towards the golden sky. Mona suddenly felt irritated at the idea of spending the time in which they might be enjoying the scenery, in playing cards.

“I’m not going to gamble while I’m aboard,” she answered shortly. “I’m not even going to play bridge.”

She walked towards her cabin, but Char was irrepressible.

“Nonsense!” she said. “I’ll have a five fixed up for after dinner this evening, you see if I don’t.”

Mona was quite certain that she would achieve her aims – Char always did. Angry and resentful, she took off her hat and dress and lay down on her bed. It was too hot even to unpack. She rang the bell and ordered a gin-and-tonic and when it was brought to her in the long glass filled with ice, she sipped it reflectively.

Char Strathwyn was becoming a nuisance, she thought, but what could she do about it? She wondered if Char thought she was rich. It would be quite easy for her to be under such a misapprehension. She had seen her clothes and Char would know to a penny, exactly what they had cost from Molyneux, Chanel and Scaparelli. She had seen her jewels, the fabulous gems that Lionel had wisely insisted on her putting into the bank in Cairo before she left on this trip.

Yes, Char might easily be mistaken, but she knew where she was staying – she was not fool enough to think that anyone would choose the blowsy garishness of that second-rate hotel, if they could afford Shepheard’s or Mena House.

‘I don’t care what she thinks,’ Mona muttered angrily, but she knew that it was no use ignoring Char, she had got to face up to her.

She was there waiting – as inevitable as the bill at the end of an evening’s enjoyment – one could not escape her. Those curious, self-seeking eyes missed nothing, they knew everything.

‘Except one thing,’ Mona told herself. ‘Whatever happens she shall never find out about Lionel and me, it would be ghastly.’

She knew that Char, being on the steamer, was going to complicate things considerably when they got to Luxor.

‘Lionel will find a way out of it,’ she thought confidently.

But she felt uncomfortable, for she had not told Lionel about Char. He was impatient if anything complicated their already complex life still further.

‘It’s all very well for him, he doesn’t know or understand how hard it is for me.’

She had begun to learn that Lionel had a lot of blind spots where other people’s happiness or interests were concerned. Once or twice she had accused him of it, but somehow her words lost their sting and her accusations their point, when she had to say them within his encircling arms or with his mouth near to hers.

No, it was no use relying on Lionel, she would have to run her life as best she could. But why worry? Perhaps Char would find someone else on board to whom she could attach herself. Mona’s hopes were not fulfilled. Char certainly collected a small number of people who were willing to gamble, but it was to Mona she clung, going along to her cabin in search of her if she were a few minutes late for meals or if she tried to have a longer siesta than usual. It was also quite impossible to avoid gambling with her. Char insisted on it.

‘I’m nothing more or less than a mascot,’ Mona told herself.

Yet she knew it was deeper than that. She represented all that Char had missed in her life – beauty, glamour, a charm that gained popularity without an effort, and the superficial trappings of wealth and extravagance. Char certainly had none of the latter. Mona never saw her in anything save her plain tussore suits and one black evening dress, which she wore with a coat that was somewhat similar in design to a man’s dinner jacket.

Yet she always managed to get to places. She had travelled all over the world, the trip on the Nile steamer to Luxor was not a cheap one, but she had found the money. She had money, too, to spend on drinks and, even if whisky was cheap and she was treated by many people, Char’s drink bill at the end of the week must have amounted to a considerable sum.

Sometimes Mona longed to ask her for an explanation of these things and yet she dared not for fear that Char might in return question her.

‘Thank goodness she doesn’t know England well!’ Mona thought. ‘I’d hate her to find out that I’ve been married and that I have a title. I feel that somehow or other she would turn it to her advantage.’

She certainly used Mona’s looks to attract odd men to play poker with them in the evenings and often in the afternoons as well.

“She’s a lovely girl, you’ll like her,” Mona heard her say once to a bluff, dour old man who was reputed wealthy but had withstood all Char’s advances and efforts to make him join their game. She knew quite well of whom Char was speaking and was disappointed when the old man capitulated and was one of their number that evening. Yet she was too lazy to make a protest.

‘What does it matter?’ she told herself and knew that the only thing that counted was the passing of time until she should see Lionel again at Luxor.

There was one other woman in their party. She was an American widow, travelling ostensibly on a sightseeing tour, actually in search of another husband and, if possible, a European one. She was apparently very rich and she was equally apparently a drunkard. Despite everyone’s advice, she insisted on starting to drink early in the morning and kept it up all day. She was pretty in a rather ordinary manner and she would have been far prettier if the lines of dissipation had not already begun to destroy the freshness of her looks.

Sadie, as they called her, began to be rather a nuisance after the first few days, when she had been on her best behaviour. Halfway through the evening it seemed to be either Char’s or Mona’s job to help her along to her cabin and ring for the stewardess to undress her and put her to bed.

“That woman’s an absolute sponge,” Char said. “I can’t think how she goes on doing it day after day. At this rate she’ll hardly be alive at the end of the trip.”

“Perhaps she’ll pull herself together when we get to Luxor,” Mona said. “She’s bored, that’s half her trouble.”

“She’s lucky, too,” Char said furiously.

She had been annoyed that Sadie, having won quite a considerable sum had collapsed over the table before anyone had a chance of taking their revenge. But that night Sadie won again, and Char came to Mona almost despairingly in the morning.

“To think that pig of a woman should get away with it!” she said. “It makes me furious but still there’s plenty of time. She isn’t getting off here and I’ve arranged that we’ll all start to play at four o’clock. If we can keep her sober enough to hold the cards until dinner-time, we ought to get our money back.”

“I don’t know that I shall be here,” Mona said.

Are sens

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