She took two plantains, peeled and ate them with extraordinary grace.

Indeed she reminded me, I do not know why, of some lovely butterfly drawing its food from a flower.
While she ate she observed us closely; nothing seemed to escape the quick glances of those beautiful eyes.

Presently she said: "What, O Humphrey, is that with which you fasten your neckdress ?" and she pointed to the little gold statue of Osiris that I used as a pin.
I told her that it was a statuette of a god named Osiris and very, very ancient, probably quite five thousand years old, a statement at which she smiled a little; also that it came from Egypt.
"Ah!" she answered, "is it so?
I asked because we have figures that are very like to that one, and they also hold in their hands a staff surmounted by a loop.

They are figures of Sleep's brother--Death." "So is this," I said.

"Among the Egyptians Osiris was the god of Death." She nodded and replied that doubtless the symbol had come down to them.
"One day you shall take me to see this land which you call so very old.
Or I will take you, which would be quicker," she added.
We all bowed and said we should be delighted.