The Quest of Julian Day by Dennis Wheatley Page B

without my risking being seen in their company. He agreed at once and, having parted from him outside the restaurant, I returned to the café on the waterfront.
    Fortunately I had not long to wait and with commendable punctuality Harry and Clarissa pulled up in a car near the lamp-post down the street. The driver gave me a queer look as I climbed in; but immediately I started to talk in English he realised that I was just another lunatic tricked out for the fancy-dress dance to which the Belvilles were going. Harry had managed to secure the costumes of a clown and with his round face smothered in white and red paint was quite unrecognisable. Clarissa looked charming in the short skirts and décolleté of Columbine. She was wearing a mask but her red curls would have given her away instantly to anyone who knew her. However, it was hardly likely that O’Kieff would be present at the party and as Zakri Bey had never seen her there was no chance of his associating her with me if he happened to be there.
    Ten minutes in the car brought us to the McPherson palace; and palace is the only word which adequately describes that great block of flats which had undergone such a strange metamorphosis. The central staircase of shining marble soared in stage after stage right to the top storey a hundred feet above the wide hall, and as we pushed our way through the swarm of gaily-costumed guests I saw that the splendid suite of reception-rooms on the upper floors held many fine pictures and a magnificent collection of art treasures.
    It was, I think, one of the most colourful gatherings I have ever seen because, in addition to the fancy-dresses, the mixed nationalities of the Alexandrians added immensely to the fascination of the scene and Alexandria too, owing once again to the mixed blood of its people, is famous for its beautiful women. None ofthem wore veils and I noticed that nearly all of them danced appallingly badly; but the languorous way in which they smoked their cigarettes and their whole poise, when they were standing talking to their partners after a dance, made one think of scented divans and walled gardens in the soft Egyptian night.
    One of these beauties arrested my attention quite early in the proceedings. She was on the small side, only about five feet two in height, but she had a lovely little figure and one of the strangest faces I have ever seen. She was dressed as Cleopatra and wore a delicate gold fillet with the royal serpent and vulture rising above her low brow. The diadem brought out the lustre of her dark hair which was curled up from the nape of her neck behind. Her skin was a golden-bronze, and she had a large, mobile mouth; but it was her eyes which were so extraordinary. They were blue and set very far apart; so that it gave one a queer sensation to look at her and one could not be quite sure if she were focusing them on one or not. In some way that I could not analyse there seemed to be something Chinese about her.
    She was evidently somebody of note as several of the Egyptians—big, heavy-jowled, elderly men—whom one could spot as important officials in spite of their fancy-dress, were always hovering about her, and her jewellery was superb.
    Harry danced with Clarissa while I made a tour of the rooms, then I danced with her while he knocked back a good ration of the excellent Pol Roger which was on tap in the splendid library running the whole length of the block on the sixth floor. After that all three of us went round together looking for McPherson with the idea of getting him to introduce Harry to some of the Egyptians; but when we found him none of them happened to be about and he was very much occupied in looking after some newly-arrived guests, so we had to content ourselves with his promise that he would do so later and, as it was half-past one, we went in to supper.
    Luck really did serve us then. We had hardly started whenZakri Bey came in with the girl who had those