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datatime: 2022-09-25 15:35:45 Author:GGHrWOcC

He stood in the archway between the two drawing rooms, his long serge cape hanging loosely from one shoulder. Unshaven, very likely drunk. And that smile of his. It was chilling.

Don't be absurd, Rita. Bring me some coffee, like a good girl. She drew even closer to the thing. After all, there was no one here to stop her. She could touch it if she wished. She listened for Rita's retreat. Heard the kitchen door open and close. Then she did reach out and touch the linen bandages that covered the right arm. Too soft, too fragile. And hot from the sun

Where's the key to the drinks cupboard? It's locked, you know. Why the devil does Oscar do that?

So strange that she was on the verge of tears. Father dead. And this which had meant so much to him. Father in an unmarked grave in Cairo as he had wanted it to be; and Ramses the Damned the toast of London.

Where's the key to the drinks cupboard? It's locked, you know. Why the devil does Oscar do that?

Good Lord, I didn't know you were here Where did you come from?

Was that dark brown hair she saw beneath the bandages that surrounded the skull? It seemed there was a great thickness of it there, bound painfully tight to the bones, giving a horrid effect of baldness. But it was the overall spectacle that really caught her and carried her away now from the details. The thing had a distinct personality, rather like a fine sculpture would have. Tall, broad-shouldered Ramses with his head bowed, and his hands in that attitude of resignation.

Was that dark brown hair she saw beneath the bandages that surrounded the skull? It seemed there was a great thickness of it there, bound painfully tight to the bones, giving a horrid effect of baldness. But it was the overall spectacle that really caught her and carried her away now from the details. The thing had a distinct personality, rather like a fine sculpture would have. Tall, broad-shouldered Ramses with his head bowed, and his hands in that attitude of resignation.

Rita had come to the door, was waiting as if for instructions.

He didn't immediately answer. He turned away, and moved to inspect the alabaster jars, even his posture slouching and arrogant.

Suddenly she was startled by Henry's voice.

Yes, of course. I'm sure you are absolutely delighted.

Well, I have none, she said. Go on upstairs and sleep it off, why don't you?

Well, I have none, she said. Go on upstairs and sleep it off, why don't you?

You're talking to that damned thing, just the way your father did.

He stood in the archway between the two drawing rooms, his long serge cape hanging loosely from one shoulder. Unshaven, very likely drunk. And that smile of his. It was chilling.

Was that dark brown hair she saw beneath the bandages that surrounded the skull? It seemed there was a great thickness of it there, bound painfully tight to the bones, giving a horrid effect of baldness. But it was the overall spectacle that really caught her and carried her away now from the details. The thing had a distinct personality, rather like a fine sculpture would have. Tall, broad-shouldered Ramses with his head bowed, and his hands in that attitude of resignation.

What's that supposed to mean?

The words in the diary came back to her with painful clarity. You are immortal, my love, she said. My father's seen to it. You may curse us for opening your tomb, but thousands will come to see you; thousands will eventually speak your name. You will live forever. ...

He stood in the archway between the two drawing rooms, his long serge cape hanging loosely from one shoulder. Unshaven, very likely drunk. And that smile of his. It was chilling.

You're talking to that damned thing, just the way your father did.

He stood in the archway between the two drawing rooms, his long serge cape hanging loosely from one shoulder. Unshaven, very likely drunk. And that smile of his. It was chilling.

Oscar's gone till tomorrow. Perhaps you should have coffee, besides. That would do you the most good.

He turned around sharply.

You're talking to that damned thing, just the way your father did.

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