walked through the great, noiseless house, he felt, in spite of
Fortune's bounty, a loneliness of soul; also irritation at having
lost Jane. What a letter he could have written to her! He could not
say the things with which his heart was bursting to anyone on earth
but Jane. Why had he lost Jane? The prospective Awakener of England
wanted Jane.



CHAPTER XI

ONE morning Paul, with a clump of papers in his hand, entered his
pleasant private room at Drane's Court, stepped briskly to the long
Cromwellian table placed in the window bay, and sat down to his
correspondence.

It was gusty outside, as could be perceived by the shower of yellow
beech leaves that slanted across the view; but indoors a great fire
flaming up the chimney, a Turkey carpet fading into beauty, rich
eighteenth century mezzotints on the walls, reposeful
leather-covered chairs and a comfortable bookcase gave an atmosphere
of warmth and coziness. Paul lit a cigarette and attacked a pile of
unopened letters. At last he came to an envelope, thick and faintly
scented, bearing a crown on the flap. He opened it and read:

DEAR MR. SAVELLI:

Will you dine on Saturday and help me entertain an eminent
Egyptologist? I know nothing of Egypt save Shepheard's Hotel, and
that I'm afraid wouldn't interest him. Do come to my rescue. Yours,