“At last!” he exclaimed. “I have waited tea for you, my dear. Will you be good enough to pour?”

An elegant silver tea service stood on the table he indicated, together with with a dumbwaiter spread with sandwiches and iced cakes.

“Please take a chair so that I may do so,” said Sethos politely. “I believe you have a fondness for cucumber sandwiches?”

“Cucumber sandwiches,” I said, regaining my self-possession, “do not appeal to me at this moment. Pray let us not stand on ceremony. Sit down and keep your hands where I can see them.”

In a single long step he was at my side. “The wig does not become you,” he said, deftly whisking off the hat and the wig to which it was (somewhat precariously) attached. “And if you will permit me a word of criticism, that parasol does not match your frock.”

The hand that rested on my shoulder fell away as I leaped back. He made no attempt to detain me. Instead he folded his arms and watched with infuriating amusement as I tugged in vain at the handle of the parasol. The release button was still sticking. I would have a few words to say to that lazy rascal Jamal when I returned home!

If I returned home.

“May I be of assistance?” Sethos inquired. He held out his hand.

The mocking smile, the contemptuous gesture gave me the additional strength I required. The button yielded. I whisked the blade out and brandished it.

“Ha!” I cried. “Now we will see who gives the orders here! Sit in that chair.”

He appeared quite unperturbed for a man who has a sharp point an inch from his jugular, but he obeyed the order. “An engaging little accoutrement,” he remarked. “Put it away, my dear. You won’t use it; you are incapable of cutting a man’s throat unless your passions are aroused, and I have no intention of arousing yours. Not that sort of passion, at any rate.”

His gray—hazel—brown eyes sparkled wickedly. What color were they? I leaned closer. Sethos let out a little yelp. “Please, Amelia,” he said plaintively.

A thin trickle of blood ran down his bared throat. “That was an accident,” I said in some confusion.

“I know. I forgive you. Do sit down and give me a cup of tea. There is no need for this combative approach, you know. You have won. I yield.”

“Have I? You do?”

Sethos leaned back, his hands on the arms of the chair. “I presume you have left the usual message to be opened if you fail to return home, so I can’t keep you here indefinitely; your husband and son will not be back for some hours, but there are others who may be moved to come looking for you, including that charming little tigress, your daughter. She isn’t really your flesh and blood, though; sometimes, Amelia, I am filled with wonderment at how you can be so clever about so many things and miss others that are right under your nose.”

“Confound it!” I cried in considerable confusion. “How do you know… What do you mean by… You are trying to get me off the subject. We were speaking of—”

“My surrender.” Sethos smiled. “I apologize. Conversation with you has such charm, I am always moved to prolong it.”

“I accept your surrender. Come with me. I have a cab waiting.” I took up a position of attack, feet braced, sword at the ready. Sethos’s mouth underwent a series of contortions. Instead of rising, he leaned forward, his hands clasped. They were long-fingered, well-tended hands, and the bared forearms to which they were attached had a symmetry many younger men might have envied.

“You misunderstand me, dear Amelia. You have already captured my heart, and the rest of me is at your disposal, but not if you want to dispose of it into a prison cell. What I meant was that you have destroyed the usefulness of this persona. The Count will never be seen again in Cairo . Now sit down and have your tea, and we will chat like the old friends we are. Who knows, you may be able to trick me into betraying information that will enable you to put an end to me once and for all.”

His mouth twitched again. He was laughing at me! All the better, I thought; in his arrogance he believes me incapable of catching him off-guard. We would see about that!

I sat down on the sofa behind the tea table, leaned the parasol, still unsheathed, against one of the cushions, and placed my handbag at my feet. My position was greatly improved thereby, since it left both my hands free. I had been unable to extract the handcuffs or the pistol or the length of rope from my bag while I held the sword. I would defeat him yet! But before I took him prisoner I wanted explanations for several of his enigmatic statements.

“How do you know Ramses and Emerson will not be back for some hours?” I inquired, pouring the tea. “Milk or lemon? Sugar?”

“Lemon, please. No sugar.” He leaned forward to take the cup from my hand. His eyes met mine. Surely they were brown?

“And how dare you refer to Nefret so familiarly?” I went on, pouring a cup for myself. Excitement had made me quite thirsty, and I knew the tea could not be drugged since both cups came from the same pot. “And what were you implying when you informed me of a fact I know quite well, namely that she is not—”

“Wait!” Sethos held up his hand. “A little order and method, my dear, if you please. Let me take your questions one by one.”

“Pray do.”

He indicated the plate of sandwiches. I shook my head. His smile broadened. “They have not been tampered with.” He took one, seemingly at random, and bit into it.

“But you expected me. How did you know I would come here today?”

Sethos swallowed. “Another question! These are excellent sandwiches, by the way. Are you sure you won’t…? Very well. I expected you today because I knew you had recognized me last night.”

“I told you I would know you anywhere, in any disguise.”

“Yes. Touching, isn’t it? I believed you when you told me that, and I have been careful to stay out of your way, though I was unable to resist presenting you with a token of my affection. Are you going to thank me properly?”

The melting look he gave me would have been more effective if I had not known he was laughing at me. “It was a foolish gesture,” I said severely.

“Yes, I suppose it was. A student of psychology like yourself might claim I did it because subconsciously I wanted you to find me. I didn’t anticipate you would follow the young lady—is that what you were doing, or was it a joint venture?—but I knew you instantly, in spite of that hideous wig. It works both ways, you know. The eyes of love—”

“Enough of that.”

“I beg your pardon. So, knowing your inveterate habit of rushing into action without stopping to consider the possible consequences, I fancied you would drop by today. I was all the more certain after I learned, from sources that shall be nameless, that your husband had gone off into the Eastern Desert looking for ruins. Or so he claimed. What’s he after, really?”

I allowed my lips to curve into an ironic smile. “You don’t suppose you can trap me into a damaging admission, do you? There is nothing to admit. Emerson is an archaeologist, not some sort of spy.”

“And your son?”

The expression in those chameleon eyes made a shiver run through me. I concealed my alarm with a little chuckle. “How absurd. Ramses’s views about the war are well known. They must be known to you as well.”

“I know a great deal about that young man. So do others. The individuals in question are in some doubt as to the genuineness of his opinions.”

“Individual, you mean,” I said. “You are referring to yourself, are you not? A man in your vile profession suspects everyone of double-dealing.”

The insult struck home. His face hardened and his form stiffened. “I serve my present employers faithfully. You may not approve my methods, but you are hardly in a position to criticize them.”

“What do you mean?” I cried in terror.

“Why… only that you would do the same had you my qualifications. Fortunately, you don’t; but if you did, you would not hesitate to risk not only life but the appearance of honor.”