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datatime: 2022-09-25 13:08:23 Author:UYjDonlj

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 turned around sharply.

Suddenly she was startled by Henry's voice.

Suddenly she was startled by Henry's voice.

Too many years in the desert heat squandering money on corpses and statues and trinkets and trash.

No, this is not good for you, is it? she asked, glancing up at the thing's eyes as if it were rude to do otherwise. But I don't want them to take you away. I '11 miss you when you're no longer here. But I won't let them cut you open. That much, I promise you.

Would it now, my dear? He removed the cape as he walked arrogantly towards her, his eyes sweeping the Egyptian room as if he did not entirely approve of it. You never let me down, do you? he asked, and flashed that bitter smile again. My childhood playmate, my cousin, my little sister I loathe coffee. I want some port or sherry.

How his words stung her. So careless, yet so hateful. He paused before one of the jars, with his back to her. In the mirror she saw him scowling down at it.

What's that supposed to mean?

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

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

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

I do declare, miss, it gives me the shivers.

Too many years in the desert heat squandering money on corpses and statues and trinkets and trash.

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.

He turned around sharply.

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. ...

It was his money, wasn't it? she asked. He made enough for all of us, or so he thought.

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

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

He turned around sharply.

No, this is not good for you, is it? she asked, glancing up at the thing's eyes as if it were rude to do otherwise. But I don't want them to take you away. I '11 miss you when you're no longer here. But I won't let them cut you open. That much, I promise you.

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.

What's that supposed to mean?

What's that supposed to mean?

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