The table had images on it and queer-shaped stones, and books.
And there were glass cases fixed against the wall behind, with little strange things in them.

The cases were rather like the ones you see in jewellers' shops.
The 'poor learned gentleman' was sitting at a table in the window, looking at something very small which he held in a pair of fine pincers.
He had a round spy-glass sort of thing in one eye--which reminded the children of watchmakers, and also of the long snail's eyes of the Psammead.

The gentleman was very long and thin, and his long, thin boots stuck out under the other side of his table.

He did not hear the door open, and the children stood hesitating.

At last Robert gave the door a push, and they all started back, for in the middle of the wall that the door had hidden was a mummy-case--very, very, very big--painted in red and yellow and green and black, and the face of it seemed to look at them quite angrily.
You know what a mummy-case is like, of course?
If you don't you had better go to the British Museum at once and find out.