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had a brief glimpse of Sandra in a cream-coloured silk dress, but it was Lucien who really took her eye. He looked taller than ever in his tight black evening trousers, over which he wore a jade green coat with lapels and piping in a darker green velvet. With his dark good looks, made the more striking by the harshness of his expression, every other man in the room paled into insignificance.
    “That’s Lucien Manners,” Arab told Jill.
    Jill was immediately impressed. “The Lucien Manners? The one who appears on those highbrow programmes on T.V., telling us all about bygone civilisations? What is he? Not just an archaeologist. I’m sure that’s too tame a description!”
    “I don’t know,” Arab confessed.
    “And who is that creature with him?” Jill went on, feasting her eyes on the exotic pair as they took their seats.
    “Sandra Dark,” Arab supplied dryly. “His sister married her brother.”
    Jill’s eyes swivelled round to rest on Arab’s face. “You know a great deal about them!” she accused.
    Arab made a face at her, aware that both the Frenchmen were looking at her curiously. “The niece was my friend of the afternoon,” she confessed. “You’ll probably meet her, because she wants to come along and watch us work one day. She’s sweet!”
    “You say that as though the uncle isn’t sweet at all,” Jill remarked.
    “He isn’t,” Arab said. She turned her back on the table where Lucien and Sandra were sitting and tried to recapture her earlier pleasure in the evening. “He’s the most ill-mannered brute I’ve ever met!”
    Something in Jill’s eyes should have warned her, but Arab was remembering exactly how he had looked at her and how he had referred to her gamin charms with such contempt.
    “He thinks women should have nothing better to do than please men!” she added bitterly. “Any woman who isn’t obedient to his every wish, meek and admiring, a—a sycophant , in fact, is an object for his masculine derision and scorn—”
    “Miss Burnett !”
    Arab dropped her fork and choked. His hand came down hard on the small of her back, depriving her of all breath. “How dare you?” she gasped. “Creeping up behind me—”
    His mocking eyes brought the colour flying into her cheeks. “I wasn’t sure it was you at first,” he said. “Fine feathers make fine birds. Borrowed plumes, Arab?”
    “N-not exactly,” she muttered. “There are perks with every trade.”
    “So I see!” He looked her up and down, not troubling to spare her embarrassment as he took in the full effect of the tight gold bodice, the neat waistline, and the long, flaring skirt. “Very nice!” He picked up her napkin which had fallen to the floor and returned it to her knee. “I came over to find out if Hilary and I can watch you work tomorrow morning. Nothing short of a promise to that effect would make her go to bed,” he added frankly. “Do you mind?”
    Arab shook her head, unable to speak, but Jill had no such difficulty. She looked at Lucien with frankly admiring eyes and said, “We’d be absolutely delighted, Mr. Manners. Come along any time!”

CHAPTER THREE
    IT rained in the night. The whole unit waited with bated breath for the magic hour of noon, by which time they would know if there was going to be any breeze or not. Jill elected to go swimming and tried to persuade Arabella to go with her.
    “It only means trouble when you go off on your own,” she told the younger girl. “Besides, I’ve been checking up on your new friends and I think someone ought to put you wise to the situation there.”
    “Tell me now,” Arab invited, settling more firmly on her beach lounger beneath one of the thatched toadstool shades that the hotel supplied.
    “Well, okay. But I’m not just dishing the dirt for my own amusement, you know that. I’ve got kind of fond of you, honey, and I don’t want to see you hurt—”
    “There’s not much danger of that!” Arab assured her.
    “No? He’s the