The house was kept by
an extremely fat Algerian, married to a woman who called herself
Spanish, but was more than half Moorish; and the proprietor himself
being of mixed blood, all the servants except an Algerian maid or two,
were Kabyles or Arabs. They were cheap and easy to manage, since master
and mistress had no prejudices. Stephen did not like the look of the
place, which might suit commercial travellers or parties of economical
tourists who liked to rub shoulders with native life; but for a pretty
young girl travelling alone, it seemed to him that, though it was clean
enough, nothing could be less appropriate. Victoria had made up her mind
and engaged her room, however; and so as no definite objection could be
urged, he followed Caird's example, and held his tongue. As they bade
the girl good-bye in the tiled hall (a fearful combination of all that
was worst in Arab and European taste) Nevill begged her to let them know
if she were not comfortable. "You're coming to lunch to-morrow at
half-past one," he went on, "but if there's anything meanwhile, call us
up on the telephone. We can easily find you another hotel, or a pension,
if you're determined not to visit my aunt."
"If I need you, I promise that I will call," Victoria said. And though
she answered Caird, she looked at Stephen Knight.
Then they left her; and Stephen became rather thoughtful. But he tried
not to let Nevill see his preoccupation.
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