word for it, it's exactly the spot where an enthusiast of the Thi
Tomb would be grubbing away.... Lord, they could choose their find
in those days!"

"It's uncommonly likely," McLean conceded, abandoning his demolished
cherry tart and pulling out his briar. "And if the locket proves the
duplicate of the other it indicates that it's a portrait of Madame
Delcassé, but it doesn't indicate what has become of Madame
Delcassé.... Though in a general way," McLean deduced with Scotch
judicialness, "it supports the theory of foul play. The woman would
hardly have lost her miniature, or have sold it, except under
pressing conditions. In fact--"

Ryder was brusque with his facts.

"That doesn't matter--Madame Delcassé doesn't matter. The thing that
matters is--"

As brusquely he broke off. His tongue balked before the revelation
but he goaded it on.

"That there is a girl--the living image of that picture."

"I say!" McLean looked up at that, distinctly intrigued. "That's
getting on.... You mean you've seen her?"

Ryder nodded, suddenly busy with his cigarette.

"Where is she, now? In Cairo? That's luck, man!... And you say she's
like?"