"There's apparently a conspiracy of silence to keep us from finding out
anything about Miss Ray's sister as Ben Halim's wife," he said to Nevill
when they had left the curiosity-shop. "Also, what has become of Ben
Halim."
"You'll learn that there's always a conspiracy of silence in Africa,
where Arabs are concerned," Nevill answered. There was a far-off, fatal
look in his eyes as he spoke, those blue eyes which seemed at all times
to see something that others could not see. And again the sense of an
intangible, illusive, yet very real mystery of the East, which he had
felt for a moment before landing, oppressed Stephen, as if he had
inhaled too much smoke from the black incense of Tombouctou.
XI
Stephen and Nevill Caird were in the cypress avenue when Victoria Ray
drove up in a ramshackle cab, guided by an Arab driver who squinted
hideously. She wore a white frock which might have cost a sovereign, and
had probably been made at home. Her wide brimmed hat was of cheap straw,
wound with a scarf of thin white muslin; but her eyes looked out like
blue stars from under its dove-coloured shadow, and a lily was tucked
into her belt. To both young men she seemed very beautiful, and radiant
as the spring morning.
"You aren't superstitious, engaging a man with a squint," said Nevill.
"Of course not," she laughed. "As if harm could come to me because the
poor man's so homely! I engaged him because he was the worst looking,
and nobody else seemed to want him.
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