“It looks smaller than I expected,” Perry replied truthfully, although he suspected any criticism would hurt the artist’s feelings.
“That’s because of its shape. You’ll find it seem huge, near by.”
The two walked on together in silence.
“Are you going to do a picture of the Pyramid?” Perry asked, after a long pause.
“Perhaps,” the other answered. “I am waiting.”
He did not seem to want to talk, and, as they tramped along the avenue of lebbek trees, Perry fell silent also. His companion was one of those men whose friendship is felt as much in silence as in speech, and the two went forward happily together.
Half a mile further on, an Arab stopped the artist, and spoke gravely in Arabic. Hearing that the reply was also in Arabic, Perry strolled on slowly. The artist caught up to him again before long.
“You speak Arabic?” queried the boy.
“H’m, yes,” the other answered. “I have to speak it; none of them speak the old Egyptian here.”
“Do you?”