He was also, or thought he was, in love with my unworthy self.

He found this mummy in a royal tomb at Memphis.

He--well, I suppose, stole it--of course under the usual licence from the Khedive--and sent it home to Dad.

Now comes the mystery.

That was the mummy of Nitocris, the daughter of the great Rameses, and it was the dead image of my living self." "Oh, but, Niti--what do you mean ?" "I don't know, Brenda.