The doctor coughed slightly. "The Alhambra--ah, yes!--you--er--
refer, I presume, to Granada and the Land of the Moor, where we
last met. The music and dance are both distinctly Moorish--which,
after all, is akin to the Egyptian. I am gratified indeed that
your memory should be so retentive and your archaeological
comparison so accurate. But see! the ladies are retiring. Let us
follow."


IV


The intoxication produced by the performance of the Princess
naturally had its reaction. The British moral soul, startled out
of its hypocrisy the night before, demanded the bitter beer of
self-consciousness and remorse the next morning. The ladies were
now openly shocked at what they had secretly envied. Lady Pyle
was, however, propitiated by the doctor's assurance that the
Princess was a friend of Lady Fitz-Fulke, who had promised to lend
her youthful age and aristocratic prestige to the return ball which
the Princess had determined to give at her own home. "Still, I
think the Princess open to criticism," said Sir Midas oracularly.

"Damn all criticism and critics!" burst out McFeckless, with the
noble frankness of a passionate and yet unfettered soul. Sir
Midas, who employed critics in his business, as he did other base
and ignoble slaves, drew up himself and his paunch and walked away.

The Chevalier cast a superb look at McFeckless. "Voila! Regard me