Dope | Page 6

a low voice.
"Kazmah!" cried Gray. "The man who sells perfume and pretends to read dreams? What
an extraordinary notion. Wouldn't tomorrow do? He will surely have shut up shop!"
"I have been at pains to ascertain," replied Sir Lucien, "at Mrs. Irvin's express desire, that
the man of mystery is still in session and will receive her."
Beneath the mask of nonchalance which he wore it might have been possible to detect
excitement repressed with difficulty; and had Gray been more composed and not
obsessed with the idea that Sir Lucien had deliberately intruded upon his plans for the
evening, he could not have failed to perceive that Mrs. Monte Irvin was feverishly
preoccupied with matters having no relation to dinner and the theatre. But his private
suspicions grew only the more acute.
"Then if the dinner is not off," he said, "may I come along and wait for you?"
"At Kazmah's?" asked Mrs. Irvin. "Certainly." She turned to Sir Lucien. "Shall you wait?
It isn't much use as I'm dining with Quentin."
"If I do not intrude," replied the baronet, "I will accompany you as far as the cave of the
oracle, and then bid you good night."
The trio proceeded along old Bond Street. Quentin Gray regarded the story of Kazmah as
a very poor lie devised on the spur of the moment. If he had been less infatuated, his
natural sense of dignity must have dictated an offer to release Mrs. Irvin from her
engagement. But jealousy stimulates the worst instincts and destroys the best. He was
determined to attach himself as closely as the old Man of the Sea attached himself to
Es-Sindibad, in order that the lie might be unmasked. Mrs. Irvin's palpable
embarrassment and nervousness he ascribed to her perception of his design
A group of shop girls and others waiting for buses rendered it impossible for the three to
keep abreast, and Gray, falling to the rear, stepped upon the foot of a little man who was
walking close behind them.

"Sorry, sir," said the man, suppressing an exclamation of pain--for the fault had been
Gray's.
Gray muttered an ungenerous acknowledgment, all anxiety to regain the side of Mrs.
Irvin; for she seemed to be speaking rapidly and excitedly to Sir Lucien.
He recovered his place as the two turned in at a lighted doorway. Upon the wall was a
bronze plate bearing the inscription:
KAZMAH Second Floor
Gray fully expected Mrs. Irvin to suggest that he should return later. But without a word
she began to ascend the stairs. Gray followed, Sir Lucien standing aside to give him
precedence. On the second floor was a door painted in Oriental fashion. It possessed
neither bell nor knocker, but as one stepped upon the threshold this door opened
noiselessly as if dumbly inviting the visitor to enter the square apartment discovered. This
apartment was richly furnished in the Arab manner, and lighted by a fine brass lamp
swung upon chains from the painted ceiling. The intricate perforations of the lamp were
inset with colored glass, and the result was a subdued and warm illumination.
Odd-looking oriental vessels, long-necked jars, jugs with tenuous spouts and squat bowls
possessing engraved and figured covers emerged from the shadows of niches. A low
divan with gaily colored mattresses extended from the door around one corner of the
room where it terminated beside a kind of mushrabiyeh cabinet or cupboard. Beyond this
cabinet was a long, low counter laden with statuettes of Nile gods, amulets,
mummy-beads and little stoppered flasks of blue enamel ware. There were two glass
cases filled with other strange-looking antiquities. A faint perfume was perceptible.
Sir Lucien entering last of the party, the door closed behind him, and from the cabinet on
the right of the divan a young Egyptian stepped out. He wore the customary white robe,
red sash and red slippers, and a tarbush, the little scarlet cap commonly called a fez, was
set upon his head. He walked to a door on the left of the counter, and slid it noiselessly
open. Bowing gravely, "The Sheikh el Kazmah awaits," he said, speaking with the soft
intonation of a native of Upper Egypt.
It now became evident, even to the infatuated Gray, that Mrs. Irvin was laboring under
the influence of tremendous excitement. She turned to him quickly, and he thought that
her face looked almost haggard, whilst her eyes seemed to have changed color--become
lighter, although he could not be certain that this latter effect was not due to the peculiar
illumination of the room. But when she spoke her voice was unsteady.
"Will you see if you can find a cab," she said. "It is so difficult at night, and my shoes
will get frightfully muddy crossing Piccadilly. I shall not