“But you have made some discoveries, I am sure. The wonderful papyri, for instance—where did you find them?”
“I bought them, Miss Consinor, with good English money.”
She appeared disappointed, but brightened a moment later.
“At least it was you who discovered and excavated the birth-house at Kom Ombos. I have read your article concerning it in the Saturday Review.”
“Then you know all about it,” said he. “But see; nearly opposite us is the great Maspero himself—the man who has done more for Egypt than all the rest of us combined. Does he not look the savant? Let me tell you something of his most important work.”
Here was a subject he could talk on fluently and with fervor, and she listened as attentively as he could desire.
After dinner they repaired to the great hall of the palace, to participate in the reception. Lord Cromer was soon gracefully greeting his guests and presenting them to Lord Roane, Viscount Consinor and the Honorable Aneth Consinor.
Gerald Winston, standing at a distance from the group, gave an involuntary shiver as he saw Prince Kāra brought forward and presented.
Lord Roane greeted the Egyptian with the same cordiality he had bestowed uniformly upon his host’s other guests. Why should he not? Only Winston, silently observant in the background, knew their relationship—except Kāra. Yes; Kāra knew, for he had said so that day beneath the palms of Fedah. But now his demeanor was grave and courteous, and his countenance composed and inscrutable.
Aneth smiled upon the handsome native as he passed slowly on to give place to others.