aw her. But still I did not see her face. I suppose
there were other persons with her. I did not notice. I did notice the
salient thing. She was boarding a motor 'bus, presumably for the
Alexandria train, and was followed by the usual Cairene retinue of
tarbooshed porters and luggage-bearers.

My glimpse of her was again only in exit. My baggage had just been
unpacked, and I also could not catch the Alexandria train. I had been
foolish enough to announce my coming by postcard from Jerusalem to an
acquaintance at the Turf Club and had found awaiting me at Shepheard's
on my arrival a note informing me that George Clann, a friend of past
days, had invited a few army officers and native men for dinner that
evening to meet me. The note added that no excuse would be accepted. I
had called up the club and signified my acceptance. That was before I
had seen the departing goddess, but I was due in the Sharia el Magrabi
an hour hence and so was once again completely anchored.

Had I seen her in entrance instead of in exit only, I should perhaps
have remained in Egypt and fanned into rebirth a languid interest in
sarcophagi and cartouches and camel-riding and scrambling up the
comfortless slants of pyramids.

As it was I began to subscribe to the Oriental idea of an inevitable
destiny. I admitted to myself that it was written that for me this lady
was to remain as unseen as though she belonged to the latticed and
veiled seclusion of some pasha's harem. I told myself that had my first
glimpse been a full one I should have gone on my way with prompt
forgetfulness and that a curiosity so strange and fantastic must
influence me no further.

I sought out an empty place on the terrace where unintentionally enough
I overheard an earnest conversation between a fair-haired and
enthusiastic young Englishman and a grizzled fellow in middle life. They
were talking business in one of the writing-rooms which give out through
open windows upon the terrace, and the enthusiasm of the younger gave a
carrying quality to his voice.

He was, it appeared from his solicitude, seeking a billet which it lay
in the power of his elder vis-a-vis to bestow. From the discussion which
neither of them treated as confidential I learned that there is
somewhere in the Pacific Ocean a perfectly useless island from which
certain ethnological data and exhibits might be obtained. It further
appeared that the British Museum was deficient in these particular
curios