"Where is my wife?" he demanded anxiously.
Zobeide, noting his eager looks, decided that he wanted money, and laughed. "I think she is with Lady Branwin in the lower back bedroom."
"What, at this time! Why, it's five minutes to eight." And he glanced at the clock over the still-room mantelpiece, again speaking with his fingers.
"I thought it was much later myself," said Zobeide. "Wait for her. I daresay she won't be long. Where are Badoura and Parizade?"
"Behind the curtain," said Vail, with his fingers, and pointing to a figured drapery hanging from the ceiling to the floor, and which ran along a brass rod. "Can't you hear them chattering and laughing?"
Zobeide shot an angry glance at him, as she hated to have any allusion made to her deafness.
She would have said something disagreeable, but that Madame, adjusting her yashmak, entered the room. She looked, so far as could be judged from her eyes, irritated and startled. "I wish Lady Branwin was at the bottom of the sea," she said crossly. "Zobeide, attend to your work. And what do you mean, Eddy, coming up to trouble my girls? You have no right in this room, and I won't have it."
"You never objected before," grumbled Eddy, crossly.
"Then I object now. Go away; I'm busy. Lady Branwin is in the house, and--and others." She hesitated and snapped savagely: "I wish you would go away."
"Then you shan't get it. Come to-morrow, and I'll see what I can do. By the way, I want you to go to Brighton for me."
"Do I ever object to pay when you go on my business?" asked his wife, crossly, for the heat seemed to have worn her nerves thin.
"What's the business?" asked Eddy, taking out a cigarette.
"And you'll give me the fiver to-morrow?"
"Oh, I say, that deserves a kiss. Do remove that beastly yashmak and let me kiss you!"
Madame Coralie pushed him back violently. "Certainly not. I have no time for frivolity. Go away."
The young man looked astonished. "You always liked being kissed before," he remarked sulkily. "Are you going back to Lady Branwin?"
"No. She has had some supper, and will now sleep. I must attend to the paste for her complexion. Zobeide? Go away, Eddy. It's getting late."
"Five minutes after eight," said the young man, and sauntered out of the door. "I'll turn up to-morrow before midday. Good-bye."