"You do?" and a curious shadow darkened her features. "But perhaps
you are wrong also!"

"I think not," said the Doctor, with gentle obstinacy. "You are an
Egyptian. Born in Egypt; born OF Egypt. Pure Eastern! There is
nothing Western about you. Is not it so?"

She looked at him enigmatically.

"You have made a near guess," she replied; "but you are not
absolutely correct. Originally, I am of Egypt."

Dr. Dean nodded pleasantly.

"Originally,--yes. That is precisely what I mean--originally! Let
me take you in to supper."

He offered his arm, but Gervase made a hasty step forward.

"Princess," he began--

She waved him off lightly.

"My dear Monsieur Gervase, we are not in the desert, where Bedouin
chiefs do just as they like. We are in a modern hotel in Cairo,
and all the good English mammas will be dreadfully shocked if I am
seen too much with you. I have danced with you five times,
remember! And I will dance with you once more before I leave. When
our waltz begins, come and find me in the upper-room."