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 and which appeared to cause him endless delight. My still imperfect knowledge of the language prevented me from venturing on an animated conversation with my neighbour, a pompous, abnormally fat old man, who reeked of aromatic pomades, and was fed from a spoon by a young girl, who tasted of every morsel before handing it to him. Hugh sat next to me on the other side, and in one of the few intervals of rest which his interesting bride granted him we contrived to exchange a few words together.

By this time I had got very tired of my robes and my lapis-lazuli belt. I longed for a clean shirt, a stiff collar, anything firm about my body, in place of all the flapping, swathing garments which always got in my way whenever I tried to cross my legs. Now I always had a habit of tilting my chair back and crossing my legs in good, honest, insular manner, and I had not yet realised that, in a sort of Roman toga and petticoats, this attitude was far from elegant; and when in addition to this I vainly groped for my trousers pockets in which to bury my hands, like the true-born Englishman I was, and found that not only I had no pockets but also no … well! I said "Damn!" loudly and emphatically.

No sooner was this useful and impressive portion of the English language out of my mouth than I perceived that in the vast hall a deathlike silence had succeeded the noise of talk and laughter, and three hundred pairs of ears were straining to catch the strange word I had uttered, while the Pharaoh's keen dark eyes were fixed mockingly upon me.

But it certainly would take a great deal more than just one good British "Damn!" spoken in an inopportune moment, to ruffle Hugh Tankerville's supreme dignity and composure.