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Chapter 39

           

           "This,Iimaginemustbethefairdancer’sportrait,"—hesaid,holdingituptotheviewofalltheeagerandexclaimingspectators—"Quiteatreasure-trove!Anadmirablepieceofancientworkmanship,besidesbeingthepictureofaverylovelywoman.Doyounotthinkso,Geoffrey?"

           HehandedmethemedallionandIexamineditwithdeadlyandfascinatedinterestthefacewasexquisitelybeautifulbutassuredlyitwasthefaceofSibyl!

           IneverrememberhowIlivedthroughtherestofthatday.Atnight,assoonasIhadanopportunityofspeakingtoRimânezalone,Iaskedhim...

           "Didyousee——didyounotrecognize?..."

           "ThatthedeadEgyptiandancerresembledyourlatewife?"hequietlycontinued—"YesInoticeditatonce.Butthatshouldnotaffectyou.Historyrepeatsitselfwhyshouldnotlovelywomenrepeatthemselves?Beautyalwayshasitsdoublesomewhere,eitherinthepastorfuture."

           IsaidnomorebutnextmorningIwasveryillsoillthatIcouldnotrisefrommybed,andpassedthehoursinrestlessmoaningandirritablepainthatwasnotsomuchphysicalasmental.TherewasaphysicianresidentatthehotelatLuxor,andLucio,alwaysshowinghimselfparticularlyconsiderateformypersonalcomfort,sentforhimatonce.Hefeltmypulse,shookhishead,andaftermuchdubiouspondering,advisedmyleavingEgyptimmediately.

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