Lion in the Valley Read Online Free PDF Page B

pyramid? In the dark?"
    "The
moon is at the full, as you know. There will be adequate light, I assure you,
and the view from the top of the Cheops Pyramid is an experience not to be
missed. I had planned it as a treat for you, my dear, but if you prefer to deck
yourself out in a regalia like the one that young woman wore today ... On my
word, she resembled nothing so much as a pouter pigeon, and I fully expected her
to flap up into the air."
    Having
recognized the logic of his argument, I prepared to assume one of my working
costumes, a tasteful ensemble of purple tweed trousers and a
lavender-and-white-checked jacket, with a matching parasol. I am seldom without
a parasol. It is one of the most generally useful objects an individual can
possess, and I knew I would be glad of its assistance in the capacity of a
walking stick that evening, for the terrain surrounding the pyramids is quite
uneven. However, I felt obliged to protest Emerson's assessment of Miss
Debenham's gown.
    "Like
all men, Emerson, you have no sense of style, I admit the gown was a trifle
extreme, but it was lovely, I must ask Miss Debenham—" Emerson interrupted
my speech by planting his lips firmly on mine, removing them to murmur,
"You require no such artificial adornments, Peabody. You never look
lovelier to me than in your working trousers and shirtwaist, with a strip of
sunburn across your nose and your hair straggling out of its net. No, allow me
to revise that. You are even lovelier when you are not wear ing-"
    I
placed my hand over his mouth to prevent the completion of the sentence, for I
felt again the tingling that preceded Ramses' advent. Sure enough, I heard the
familiar voice: "May I come in now, Papa?"
    'Yes,
come in," I replied, stepping away from Emerson.
    "I
wished to ask, Mama, what I should wear," said Ramses.
    'I
had intended you should wear your black velvet suit."
    Ramses'
countenance, which seldom displayed emotion of any kind, darkened visibly. The
wearing of the black velvet suit was one of the few things that stirred him to
open rebellion. I could not imagine why the boy felt so strongly about it; with
its pretty lace collar and ruffled shirt, it was a perfectly appropriate
costume for a lad his age. (Though I must admit it did not suit Ramses'
swarthy, aquiline face and black curls as it would have done had his coloring
been more typically English.)
    I
was forced to give way on this occasion, since the havoc that would have been
wreaked on black velvet by an ascent of the pyramid would ruin the
suit. A thoughtful expression crossed Ramses' face when I expressed this
opinion, but he did not, as I had half-expected, offer to wear the suit after
all.
    Two
    M ena
House, at the foot of the Giza plateau, had been open only a few years, but its
exceptional location had made it one of the most popular hotels in the environs
of Cairo. It had been designed to look like an old English manor house on the
outside, but the Oriental style prevailed within. A web of soft lights,
suspended from the high domed ceiling of the dining salon, created an aura of
mystery and magic. Mr. and Mrs. Locke, the owners, had purchased a number of
the beautiful antique mashrabiya screens, which added appreciably to the charm
of the room.
    We
were the only guests not in full evening dress, and several people stared
rudely as we were escorted to our table by Mr. Locke himself. "Good Gad,
how people gape," Emerson remarked. "I don't know what has happened
to good old-fashioned manners. One would think there was something peculiar about
our appearance."
    "You
and Mrs. Emerson are well known," Mr. Locke said tactfully. "People
always stare at celebrities."
    "Ha,"
said Emerson. "No doubt you are right, Locke. But it is still bad
manners."
    I
had hoped we might encounter some of our archaeological friends, but I saw no
one we knew. Not until I was studying the menu in order to select a sweet for
Ramses did I