Indeed, it was the famous Mrs. Uffington, most intrepid of lion hunters: according to Jim Sakers, “The pride of Pierre’s and uncrowned Pope of Park Avenue.” She swooped down upon them. Zalithea, dropping the note, fixed a stare of cold hostility upon the face of the newcomer. “My dear John Cumberland!” she cried; “and if it isn’t our very own Professor and Barry!” They rose to greet her--without enthusiasm. “I know all about you!” she ran on vivaciously. “John Cumberland, I know all about you! _What_ will Micky Colonna say? But, my dear--she’s lovely! I can’t believe she’s a coloured girl--can’t believe it!” “Princess Zalithea is a member of a very old and distinguished family,” said Barry coldly. “Allow me to present you.” He bowed to the girl. “Mrs. Dudley Uffington.” Zalithea did not move. Her unwavering stare never left Mrs. Uffington’s face. It had an oddly quelling effect. “She’s rather queer, isn’t she?” asked the lady, in a lower tone. “She doesn’t speak English,” Professor Blackwell explained. “No! I was forgetting. But of course I have heard all about it. Do you know who told me? Mr. Ahmed Tawwab--such a charming man, for an Egyptian. He is looking in later, and I must really _insist_ that you and your delightful--protégée--join us for coffee. I shall expect you!” And she was off. “Phew!” said John Cumberland. “Here’s a mess!” “Since she finds Tawwab so charming,” murmured the Professor, “I sincerely wish she would marry him--and settle here.” Zalithea, through half-closed eyes, watched the retreating figure. “_Hafee!_” she hissed--or that was how it sounded. Barry began to laugh. “I find I am learning Ancient Egyptian!” he said. “You may be amused to know that, to the best of my knowledge, _hafee_ means ‘snake’!” “Really!” said Professor Blackwell, glancing uneasily at the malignant face of Zalithea. “It occurs to me that our foster child can be definitely unpleasant. She should prove a revelation to the drawing rooms of New York. Dear me, it’s all very extraordinary.” Any plans they may have had to evade the subsequent meeting were frustrated by the energetic Mrs. Uffington. She had a table waiting, with coffee, liqueurs, and cigarettes, outside, after dinner. She swept them to it. And as they entered the palm-screened alcove in which it was situated, Mr. Tawwab rose to greet them, bowing deeply. He was accompanied by a lean, square-jawed man having small, fierce eyes, a bristling moustache, and very large prominent teeth. He resembled a mad horse. He was presented as Captain Quick. Zalithea, trailing a light wrap, seated herself disdainfully on the very edge of a tall chair, staring straight into the eyes of the two men in turn as they were introduced, but giving not the slightest sign of acknowledgment. Mr. Tawwab appraised her, critically and ravenously. Captain Quick burst at once into a shouted conversation.