THE SIAMESE CAT
man, clean-shaven, of military appearance, though very pale,—in fact, plainly an invalid. He had spoken, said the manager, as though he lived in Alexandria.
No one in the roll-call of memory answered to the description; no one in all Egypt, save Laura and her aunt, knew that Scarlett was to pass even through that part of the world; and he was puzzled not a little. When the days lagged by, however, and brought no news of the stranger, Owen gave up the matter as a mistake.
The interval of waiting passed pleasantly. Now that Chao Phya, stripped to his intrinsic worth, could be immured or left with servants like any common cat, he had ceased to be a clog and burden. At this lively coal-bin by the great ditch, where night and day, to the click of backgammon men and the thin strains of café violins, the chattering races of all conti
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