"Oh, no offence; no offence, my boy!" and Dr. Dean at once
loosened his arm. "I only thought you looked as if you had had
some upset or worry, that's all."

"Climate! climate!" said Denzil, hoarsely. "Egypt does not agree
with me, I suppose!--the dryness of the soil breeds fever and a
touch of madness! Men are not blocks of wood or monoliths of
stone; they are creatures of flesh and blood, of nerve and muscle;
you cannot torture them so..."

He interrupted himself with a kind of breathless irritation at his
own speech. Gervase regarded him steadily, slightly smiling.

"Torture them how, Denzil?" asked the Doctor, kindly. "Dear lad,
you are talking nonsense. Come and stroll with me up and down; the
air is quite balmy and delightful; it will cool your brain."

"Yes, it needs cooling!" retorted Denzil, beginning to laugh with
a sort of wild hilarity. "Too much wine,--too much woman,--too
much of these musty old-world records and ghastly pyramids!"

Here he broke off, adding quickly:

"Doctor, Helen and I will go back to England next week, if all is
well."

"Why, certainly, certainly!" said Dr. Dean, soothingly. "I think
we are all beginning to feel we have had enough of Egypt. I shall
probably return home with you. Meanwhile, come for a stroll and