I turned the key in the door at ten o'clock, thinking with relief that for six weeks I should not open it, and I strolled northward out of Wadi Halfa along the Nile bank into the little town of Tewfikieh.

As I entered the main street I saw a small crowd--Arabs, negroes, a Greek or two, and some Egyptian soldiers, standing outside the cafe, and lit up by a glare of light from within.

As I came nearer I heard the sound of a violin and a zither, both most vilely played, jingling out a waltz.

I stood at the back of the crowd and looked over the shoulders of the men in front of me into the room.

It was a place of four bare whitewashed walls; a bar stood in one corner, a wooden bench or two were ranged against the walls, and a single unshaded paraffin lamp swung and glared from the ceiling.