The Sheik | Page 3

deserves, we can celebrate suitably later on." And, linking his
arm in his friend's, he drew him away to the card-room.
Arbuthnot went through the window and worked slowly round the
room, hugging the wall, evading dancers, and threading his way
through groups of chattering men and women of all nationalities. He
came at last to the raised dais on which Diana Mayo was still standing,
and climbed up the few steps to her side.
"This is luck, Miss Mayo," he said, with an assurance that he was far
from feeling. "Am I really fortunate enough to find you without a
partner?"
She turned to him slowly, with a little crease growing between her
arched eyebrows, as if his coming were inopportune and she resented
the interruption to her thoughts, and then she smiled quite frankly.
"I said I would not dance until everybody was started," she said rather
doubtfully, looking over the crowded floor.
"They are all dancing. You've done your duty nobly. Don't miss this
ripping tune," he urged persuasively.

She hesitated, tapping her programme-pencil against her teeth.
"I refused a lot of men," she said, with a grimace. Then she laughed
suddenly. "Come along, then. I am noted for my bad manners. This will
only be one extra sin."
Arbuthnot danced well, but with the girl in his arms he seemed
suddenly tongue-tied. They swung round the room several times, then
halted simultaneously beside an open window and went out into the
garden of the hotel, sitting down on a wicker seat under a gaudy
Japanese hanging lantern. The band was still playing, and for the
moment the garden was empty, lit faintly by coloured lanterns,
festooned from the palm trees, and twinkling lights outlining the
winding paths.
Arbuthnot leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees.
"I think you are the most perfect dancer I have ever met," he said a
little breathlessly.
Miss Mayo looked at him seriously, without a trace of
self-consciousness.
"It is very easy to dance if you have a musical ear, and if you have been
in the habit of making your body do what you want. So few people
seem to be trained to make their limbs obey them. Mine have had to do
as they were told since I was a small child," she answered calmly.
The unexpectedness of the reply acted as a silencer on Arbuthnot for a
few minutes, and the girl beside him seemed in no hurry to break the
silence. The dance was over and the empty garden was thronged for a
little time. Then the dancers drifted back into the hotel as the band
started again.
"It's rather jolly here in the garden," Arbuthnot said tentatively. His
heart was pounding with unusual rapidity, and his eyes, that he kept
fixed on his own clasped hands, had a hungry look growing in them.

"You mean that, you want to sit out this dance with me?" she said with
a boyish directness that somewhat nonplussed him.
"Yes," he stammered rather foolishly.
She held her programme up to the light of the lantern. "I promised this
one to Arthur Conway. We quarrel every time we meet. I cannot think
why he asked me; he disapproves of me even more than his mother
does--such an interfering old lady. He will be overjoyed to be let off.
And I don't want to dance to-night. I am looking forward so
tremendously to to-morrow. I shall stay and talk to you, but you must
give me a cigarette to keep me in a good temper."
His hand shook a little as he held the match for her. "Are you really
determined to go through with this tour?"
She stared at him in surprise. "Why not? My arrangements have been
made some time. Why should I change my mind at the last moment?"
"Why does your brother let you go alone? Why doesn't he go with you?
Oh, I haven't any right to ask, but I do ask," he broke out vehemently.
She shrugged her shoulders with a little laugh. "We fell out, Aubrey
and I. He wanted to go to America. I wanted a trip into the desert. We
quarrelled for two whole days and half one night, and then we
compromised. I should have my desert tour, and Aubrey should go to
New York; and to mark his brotherly appreciation of my gracious
promise to follow him to the States without fail at the end of a month
he has consented to grace my caravan for the first stage, and dismiss
me on my way with his blessing. It annoyed him so enormously that he
could not order me to go with him, this being the first time in our
wanderings that our inclinations have not jumped in the same direction.
I