, eac ter sip off an ampoule and turns to    of morp races in ime and geograpo a two-dimensional s of paper.

        t sky, il t dusk, arg to colour of t. A unison of performance like a hrown seed.

        In t city in    you could buy anyt came at ocle, to terrible leas slipped over t finger of a o you in a cro.

        In t se of Cairo    courtyard ious students, and beyond it the Khan el Khalili bazaar.

        Above treets s oin roofs eo treet and stalls. Above all to mis, feluccas, cats, tremendous noise. So me of    sleep srellises. Sake -my    at t onto tation at her neck.

        Marc. Madox is irritable because of teen    above sea level and able .    man after all,    on Magna, Somerset, altered all s and s so y to sea level as well as regular dryness.

        “Madox,     t t.    is it, does it     tc the noon glare.

        “Pull yourself togetters.

        Let me tell you a story,” Caravaggio says to     . In t desert explorers. er    t.    dialects. Does t of Cairo. One o searc oasis. t aking t into Cairo.    I    to tell you is, I tient is not Englis about all ters’s all a perfect background. to     nigrange, because I gave ra dose of morp out about eigisriple agent.    aed.” “I kno Zerzura. alked about it. alks about gardens.” “But it is mostly t noairs.” t on t eac’s possible.” “I t herself.

        “I kno    an Englis of tripoli Axis. Rommel’s Rebecca spy—” “ do you mean, ‘Rebecca spy’?” “In    t a spy called Eppler into Cairo before ttle of El Alamein. o send messages bamel on troop movements. Listen, tiselligence. Even I read it.” “You read a book?” “t into Cairo on Rommel’s personal orders—from tripoli all to Cairo— Ladislaus de Almasy. tretc t, it was assumed, no one could cross.

        “Bet explorers. But he Germans.

        Rommel asked o take Eppler across t into Cairo because it would oo obvious by plane or parace.

        o ta.” “You kno about trag t men into t. to keep digging trucks out of to and its granite plateau so t er, take ser in t ings t teau    use truck out into t again. tisrol dumps to fill up tanks. In tco Britisises on tted from tely still.

        Baking to deathe sand.

        “It took to reac    urned and    bato t alo again, back toripoli. But t    time isually and used to feed false information to Rommel about El Alamein.” “I still don’t believe it, David.” “tcly.” “Maybe    t at first.    lover as    t Almasy    someoo sco as t on tc doesn’t matter o talk alking it out. Botand? to see oo obsessed. It doesn’t matter ail. Morped it at Brompton al in London for tients. Don’t     kill    absorbs fast into t it toget .

        Give . t raigg on t stages of t ubes of morpoote tubes for dolls, s terly quaint. Caravaggio carried t all day long, slipping to umbled on ing from its excess, croucried speaking ared back. al supply box, torn it open    strengt open te, Caravaggio broke tip off eet to t it was. Kip pushing him away, glaring in anger.

        “Leave ient.” “I    damage ake aON COCKtAIL.

        : P.M.)    Caravaggio slips t of the man’s hands.

        “— someone. In late August. een forty-t    by t armies.” “t?” “Give me tispiece of Kirn ted line for took. It s a portion of India—a darkly cross-, and Kasains.

        races ill it e °o’ latitude. inues sliding , off to ; ouches his rib.

        “ nortropic of cer. On tian-Libyan border.”     happened in ?

        I o Cairo and urning from tting trol and er, driving to. It    I ruck exploded and I capsized, rolling automatically into t ing a spark to toue is alened of fire.

        truck exploded, probably sabotaged. tio drift like cities, carrying spice, rooms, gover advisors    any given moment among there were Englishmen as well as Germans.

        Leaving truck, I started o, where was a buried plane.

        ait.    do you mean, a buried plane?

        Madox o tials—tra” , crucial for desert fligimes in t augo fly, ture t he wind.

        on’s plane—Rupert—fleo our midst, t arpaulin, pegged do alcoves of U. Sand collected over it gradually for t few years.

        None of us t    again. It im of t. it gully and see no tour of it. By noon’s plaen years younger, o our story.

        So you o?

        Yes. F turned bato t. Everywhere was war.

        Suddenly teams.” tin Pas various times saved eac up into camps.

        I o. I got t noon and climbed up into teau. Above the well named Ain Dua.

        “Caravaggio thinks he knows who you are,” hana said.

        thing.

        “ Englisellige of Cairo and Italy for a    of tors, like some of t Caravaggio    like t.

        oo curious and generous to be a successful tole never came    Englisess as s appeared t    listening carefully to    ton looked and t alking.

        o ter. ed from ts of    of t, tlefield, and    naked into the cave.

        ings tle. takable posture of s t lake. o to t ill there.

        So a er, ige material. o return for her.

        o die in a cave, s privacy, t in them.

        old    in Asian gardens you could look at rod imagine er, you could gaze at a still pool and believe it    sness, rellis and    emporary. So love its sternness because of ing to uand    in its solitude. Seaming ness, climbing ba from    rainy nigting on ill , in order to    all. Just as sraditions and courteous ceremony and old memorized poems. Sed to die    a name. For o ors t actile, y in himself.

        Siohe mediaeval dead lie.

        I approag to undress ill ing to love her.

        is terrible in    ive for it. You    make love to a    on my asted and sranslate properly into anotation of intimacy the living.

        I lifted o my arms from turbed all t.

        I carried    into ttle from t in tones.

        My linked o rest on. As soon as I reacled . I o ion of t, fingers like starfish.

        e moved like to gully, ank of petrol I ruck. Because tent    it.

        “ hree years earlier?” “She had been injured. In

        even lovers at time. I suppose information of trickled doo oo o take o save o try and reacer all tion and aogether had believed in.

        In tanical garden s tepost iermination and fury. too proud to be a lover, a secret. tments in urned baiss you yet.

        You will.

        During tion ter and self-suffit.    stand o er in t tempted everyoo trust nothing.

        ed serpreted ure to ot of Roundell’s jacket on a lobby and s, laug tered somet gover aide for to see if t trust    endearments to        stand eveive smiles at    drink it. If at a dinner sed to a boing in it    look at it. Just anotimates t excluded o t muc love and ure.

        pale brote papers and glued to ses of tories t recorded    erest to e do o ter, t days before t time to to clear out to pick il to love eacher.

        Cliftoo collect ed day, buzzing t oasis so loled to ts—arpaulin. ted doy yards ahere was no fire.

        A    t of t.

        Only s dead.    out of this grip of her husband.

        e me? salking t. Stered ribs. You errible to me. t’s ill e t about you—disappearing into deserts or bars.

        You left me in Groppi Park.

        Because you didn’t    me as anything else.

        Because you said your    mad.

        Not for a long time. I    mad before op defending yourself. Kiss me and call me by my name.

        t in perfumes, in s, frantic to get u tongue or a tooter t righer.

        Noalcum on er on high.

        You t, but you’re not. You just move, or replace     sometreat into somet you because I kneill sometimes, so imes, as if test betrayal of yourself o reveal one more incer. In talked. e itudes ay of Kufra.

        ablet into t disappears into th.

        I crossed to robes against t and nigus left beer, in , I o .

        In t tools of survival are underground—troglodyte caves, er sleeping , ons, a plane.

        At longitude , latitude , I dug dooarpaulin, and Madox’s old plane gradually emerged. It ero    for a —starlig, I don’t remember. Everyhere was a war.

        t of tarp so    dig it out but o cut it away.

        I. I started tor and it rolled into life. e moved and too late, into the sky.

        tops. traight ahead in his morphine focus.

        t    above turns as if losing a stitoise terrible after o . Acacia and bone. he sky?

        top of a palm and s up, and t, o it.

        t, and t co t beside s    t glass and it    s. Begins punc, finally breaking it, and t were so arms uncoiling around ongue.

        Caravaggio reflected in t. tted plaings on tree been? s    of t t tired of living     lie ba rust o stand guard all day all niged not from t but from solitude. Madox goranslated into leaves and to the sky like a jaw above him.

        o t parad pivots upside do knoil he realizes he is on fire.

        ient’s room and stands in trying to catc they are saying.

        ?

        onderful! No’s my turn.

        Ahh! Splendid, splendid.

        test of iions.

        A remarkable find, young man.

        ers sient passing a    of densed milk bad fort ti    . t imes, managing finally to pull tin ahe dark face.

        “e , for he sapper asks.

        hem.

        Kip peers into t anothe room.

        the bed.

        “Kip and I are boternational bastards—born in one plad co live elseo get back tet a yet. t’s ogetcabs t, o the bedroom.

        “You must    suck it out t . I learned everyt ever o me t ant .”    hana.

        “One feeds me morp!” urns back to Kip.

        “how long have you been a sapper?” “Five years.

        Mostly in    London.

        taly.

        its.” “eacric.” “t kind of teac must    Miss Morden?” “Yes.” At no point does eittempt to make able in tion. But ss to kno eacher, and how he would describe him.

        “ . Miss Morden, ary, s. Miss Mordees, ed as s ruments.    man. trinity. them, in

        At Erit t t up so t is against a painted buso interpret.

        Some men    knot of life in oo discover tona stes to topped inued ies o emotionally disturbed tons.

        Sc tral look on .
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