“No,” replied Gervase, listlessly raising his white sun-hat to the ladies present with a courteous, yet somewhat indifferent grace. “I’m going to the Princess Ziska’s. I shall probably get the whole outline of her features this morning.” “A full-length portrait?” inquired the Doctor. “I fancy not. Not the first attempt, at any rate--head and shoulders only.” “Do you know where her house is?” asked Lord Fulkeward. “If you don’t, I’ll walk with you and show you the way.” “Thanks--you are very good. I shall be obliged to you.” And raising his hat again he sauntered slowly off, young Fulkeward walking with him and chatting to him with more animation than that exhausted and somewhat vacant-minded aristocrat usually showed to anyone. “It is exceedingly warm,” said Lady Lyle, rising then and putting away her cross-stitch apparatus, “I thought of driving to the Pyramids this afternoon, but really …” “There is shade all the way,” suggested the Doctor, “I said as much to a young woman this morning who has been in the hotel for nearly two months, and hasn’t seen the Pyramids yet.” “What has she been doing with herself?” asked Lady Fulkeward, smiling. “Dancing with officers,” said Dr. Dean. “How can Cheops compare with a moustached noodle in military uniform! Good-bye for the present; I’m going to hunt for scarabei.” “I thought you had such a collection of them already,” said Lady Lyle. “So I have. But the Princess had a remarkable one on last night, and I want to find another like it. It’s blue--very blue--almost like a rare turquoise, and it appears it is the sign-manual of the warrior Araxes, who was a kind of king in his way, or desert chief, which was about the same thing in those days. He fought for Amenhotep, and seemed from all accounts to be a greater man than Amenhotep himself. The Princess Ziska is a wonderful Egyptologist; I had a most interesting conversation with her last night in the supper-room.” “Then she is really a woman of culture and intelligence?” queried Lady Lyle. The Doctor smiled. “I should say she would be a great deal too much for the University of Oxford, as far as Oriental learning goes,” he said. “She can read the Egyptian papyri, she tells me, and she can decipher anything on any of the monuments. I only wish I could persuade her to accompany me to Thebes and Karnak.” Lady Fulkeward unfurled her fan and swayed it to and fro with an elegant languor.