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Evelyn had retreated. I stood alone. Gathering my dignity, I turned to face my attacker.

He was a tall man with shoulders like a bull's and a black beard cut square like those of the statues of ancient Assyrian kings. From a face tanned almost to the shade of an Egyptian, vivid blue eyes blazed at me. His voice, as I had good cause to know, was a deep, reverberating bass. The accents were those of a gentleman. The sentiments were not.

"Sir," I said, looking him up and down. "I do not know you- "

"But I know you, madam! I have met your kind too often – the rampageous British female at her clumsiest and most arrogant. Ye gods! The breed covers the earth like mosquitoes, and is as maddening. The depths of the pyramids, the heights of the Himalayas – no spot on earth is safe from you!"

He had to pause for bream at this point, which gave me the opportunity I had been waiting for.

"And you, sir, are the lordly British male at his loudest and most bad-mannered. If the English gentlewoman is covering the earth, it is in the hope of counteracting some of the mischief her lord and master has perpetrated. Swaggering, loud, certain of his own superiority…"

My adversary was maddened, as I had hoped he would be. Little flecks of foam appeared on the blackness of his beard. His subsequent comments were incomprehensible, but several fragile objects vibrated dangerously on their shelves.

I stepped back a pace, taking a firm grip on my parasol. I am not easily cowed, nor am I a small woman; but this man towered over me, and the reddening face he had thrust into mine was suggestive of violence. He had very large, very white teeth, and I felt sure I had gotten a glimpse of most of them.

A hand fell on his shoulder. Looking up, I saw Evelyn with a young man who was a slighter, beardless copy of my adversary-dark-haired, blue-eyed, tall, but not so bulky.

"Radcliffe," he said urgently. "You are alarming this lady. I beg you- "

"I am not at all alarmed," I said calmly. "Except for your friend's health. He seems about to have a fit. Is he commonly subject to weakness of the brain?"

The younger man now had both hands on his companion's shoulders. He did not seem concerned; indeed, he was smiling broadly. He was an attractive young fellow; from the way Evelyn looked at him I suspected she shared my opinion.

"My brother, madam, not my friend," he said cheerfully. "You must forgive him- now Radcliffe, calm yourself. The museum always has this effect on him," he explained, looking at me. "You must not blame yourself for upsetting him."

"I certainly should not blame myself if my harmless behavior brought on such a violent, inexcusable breach of common courtesy- "

"Amelia!" Evelyn caught my arm as a roar of rage burst from the bearded person. "Let us all be calm, and not provoke one another."

"I am not provoking anyone," I said coolly. Evelyn exchanged a glance with the young man. As if some message had passed between them, they both moved, the young fellow tugging at his agitated brother, Evelyn using a gentler but equally firm grip to pull me away. The other visitors were watching us with ill-bred curiosity. One lady pulled her companion out of the room. Another couple followed, leaving a single spectator, an Arab in flowing robes, headcloth, and bright-green goggles, who continued to watch the antics of the incomprehensible foreigners with amused contempt.

Rapid footsteps in the hall heralded the arrival of M. Maspero, who had apparently been alarmed by the uproar. When he saw us his pace slowed, and a smile spread over his face.

"Ah, c'est le bon Emerson. I should have known. You have met one another? You are acquainted?"

"We are not acquainted," said the person called Emerson, in a slightly modified shout. "And if you make any attempt to introduce us, Maspero, I shall fell you to the ground!"

M. Maspero chuckled. "Then I will not risk it. Come, ladies, and let me show you some of our finer objects. These are unimportant- a miscellany only."

"But they are most interesting," Evelyn said in her gentle voice. "I admire the soft colors of the jewelry."

"Ah, but these trinkets are not valuable- no gold, only beads and amulets, made of faience, common as sand. We find such bracelets and necklaces by the hundreds."

"Faience?" Evelyn repeated. "Then the lovely coral, the delicate blue-green which resembles turquoise, are not the real stones?"

The black-bearded male person had turned his back on us and was pretending to sneer at a collection of ushebtis; I knew he was eavesdropping, however. His brother was not so rude. The young fellow stood looking shyly at Evelyn, and when she asked about the jewelry he started to answer. The ebullient Maspero anticipated him.

"Mais non, mademoiselle, they are imitations of coral, turqoise, lapis lazuli, made from a colored paste common in ancient Egypt."

"They are lovely, all the same," I said. "And the very age of them staggers the imagination. To think that these beads adorned the slim brown wrist of an Egyptian maiden four thousand years before our Saviour was born!"

Blackboard whirled around. "Three thousand years," he corrected. "Maspero's chronology, like all his work, is inexcusably inaccurate!"

Maspero smiled, but I think his next act was prompted to some extent by the annoyance he was too courteous to express directly. Lifting a necklace of tiny blue and coral beads, he handed it to Evelyn with a courtly bow.

"Keep it as a memento of your visit, if you treasure such things. No, no"-he waved away Evelyn's protests-"it is of no consequence; I only regret I have nothing finer for such a charming lady. For you, too, Mademoiselle Peabody" – and another string of beads was pressed into my hand.

"Oh, but- " I began, with an uneasy glance at the black-bearded person, who was shaking like an engine about to burst.

"Do me the honor," Maspero insisted. "Unless you fear the foolish tales of curses and avenging Egyptian ghosts- "

"Certainly not," I said firmly.

"But what of the curses of M. Emerson?" Maspero asked, his eyes twinkling. "Regardez- he is about to say unkind things to me again."

"Never fear," Emerson snarled. "I am leaving. I can only stand so many minutes in this horror house of yours. In God's name, man, why don't you classify your pots?"

He rushed off, pulling his slighter companion with him. The young fellow turned his head; his gaze went straight to Evelyn and remained fixed on her face until he had been removed from the room.

"He has almost the Gallic temperament," said Maspero admiringly. "One observes the magnificence of his rages with respect."

"I cannot agree with you," I said. "Who is the fellow?"

"One of your fellow countryman, dear lady, who has interested himself in the antiquities of this country. He has done admirable work excavating, but I fear he does not admire the rest of us. You heard his abuse of my poor museum. He abuses my excavation methods with the same ardor. But, indeed, there is no archaeologist in Egypt who has been spared his criticism."

"I don't care to speak of him," I said, with a sniff. "We think your museum is fascinating, M. Maspero," Evelyn added tactfully. "I could spend days here."

We spent several hours more inspecting the exhibits. I would not have said so for the world, but I felt a certain sympathy for the odious Emerson's criticisms. The exhibits were not arranged as methodically as they might have been, and there was dust everywhere.