Free The Mummy Case by Elizabeth Peters Page B

"The personal activities of others, scholars or not, are exceedingly dull. And the professional activities of most of the archaeologists of my acquaintance are not worth talking about."
    I tried to turn the conversation by a courteous inquiry after Mrs. Wilberforce. I had, of course, included that lady in my invitation, but she had been forced to decline. She was alwaysforced to decline. She appears to have been a rather sickly person.
    My tactful efforts were unavailing, however. The Reverend Sayce, who had been needled by Emerson on only too many occasions, was not Christian enough to forgo a chance at revenge. "Speaking of professional activities," he said, "I understand our friend de Morgan has great hopes for his excavations at Dahshoor. Where is it that you will be working this season, Professor?"
    Seeing by Emerson's expression that he was about to launch into a diatribe against de Morgan, I kicked him under the table. His expression changed to one of extreme anguish and he let out a cry of pain. "Mazghunah," I said, before Emerson could collect himself. "We are excavating at Mazghunah this season. The pyramids, you know."
    "Pyramids?" Wilberforce was too courteous to contradict a lady, but he looked doubtful. "1 confess I don't know the site, but I did think I was familiar with all the known pyramids."
    "These," I said, "are unknown pyramids."
    Conversation then became general. It was not until we had retired to the lounge for brandy and cigars (in the case of the gentlemen) that I produced my scrap of papyrus and handed it to the reverend.
    "I procured this today from one of the antiquities dealers. Since you are the biblical authority among us, I thought you might make more of it than I have been able to do."
    The reverend's deep-set eyes lit with the flame of inquiry. Adjusting his spectacles, he examined the writing, saying as he did so, "I am no authority on Coptic, Mrs. Emerson. I expect this is probably..." His voice trailed off as he bent his full attention to the text, and Wilberforce remarked, smiling, "I am surprised at you, Mrs. Amelia. I thought you and your husband refused to buy from dealers."
    "I do refuse," said Emerson, his nose in the air. "Unfortunately, my wife's principles are more elastic than mine."
    "We are looking for papyri for Walter," I explained.
    "Ah, yes—Professor Emerson the younger. One of the finest students of the language. But I'm afraid you will find the competition keen, Mrs. Amelia. With so many of the younger men studying Egyptian, everyone wants new texts."
    "Including yourself?" I asked, with a keen look at Mr. Wilberforce.
    "To be sure. But," the American said, his eyes twinkling, "I'll play fair and square, ma'am. If you find something worthwhile, I won't try to steal it."
    "Which is more than can be said for some of our associates," grumbled Emerson. "If you happen to meet Wallis Budge, tell him I carry a stout stick and will use it on anyone who tries to make off with my property."
    I did not hear Mr. Wilberforce's reply. My attention was caught by two people who had just entered the lounge.
    The young man had turned his head to address his companion. The profile thus displayed was pure Greek, with the spare and exquisite modeling of a fifth-century Apollo or Hermes. His hair, brushed back from his high, classical brow, shone like electrum, the blend of silver and gold used by the Egyptians in their most priceless ornaments. The extreme pallor of his skin— which led me to deduce that he had not been long in the sunny clime of Egypt—added to the impression of a carving in alabaster. Then he smiled, in response to some comment of his companion, and a remarkable transformation took place. Benevolence beamed from every aspect of his countenance. The marble statue came alive.
    The lady with him... was no lady. Her gown of deep-purple satin in the latest and most extravagant style suggested not the world of fashion but the demi-monde. It was trimmed with sable and beads,