CHAPTER XVIII

A LIGHT IN THE MUSEUM (_Saturday, July 14; 1.15 a. m._) Hani joined us in the drawing-room. He was very calm and dignified, and his inscrutable eyes rested impassively on Vance like those of an ancient Egyptian priest meditating before the shrine of Osiris. “How do you happen to be up and about at this hour?” Vance asked casually. “Another attack of gastritis?” “No, _effendi_.” Hani spoke in slow, measured tones. “I rose when I heard you talking to Brush. I sleep with my door open always.” “Perha…