pain in him.
  
  And he looked stiff and uncomfortable in his black Western suit and starched white 
shirt. In the silks of his native dress, he was a dark-eyed prince, quite removed from 
the dreary routines of this noisy century and its bludgeoning drive to progress. Here he 
looked foreign, and almost servile in spite of the imperious manner in which he ordered 
the workmen about.
  
  Alex stared at the workmen and their relics with the strangest expression. What was it? 
These things meant nothing to him; they had to do with some other world. But did he not 
find them beautiful? Ah, it was so difficult for her to understand." I wonder if there is 
a curse,"  he whispered softly." Oh, please, don't be ridiculous,"  Julie answered." Now, 
they're going to be working for some time. Why don't we go on • back into the 
conservatory and have tea?"
  
  "Yes, we should do that,"  he said. It was dislike in his face, wasn't it? Not 
confusion. He felt nothing for these treasures. They were alien to him; they did not 
matter one way or the other. She might have felt the same way gazing at a modern machine 
she did not understand.
  
  It saddened her. But everything saddened her now-and most of all the fact that her 
father had had so little time with these many treasures, that he had died on the very day 
of his greatest discovery. And that she was the one who must savour each and every 
article that he had uncovered in this mysterious and controversial grave.
  
  Perhaps after tea, Alex would understand that she wanted to be alone. She led him down 
the hall now, past the double doors of me drawing rooms, past the doors of the library 
and out through the marble alcove into the glass room of ferns and flowers that ran 
across the entire back of the house.
  
  This had been Father's favourite place when he was not in the library. No accident that 
his desk and his books were only a few feet away, through those glass doors.
  
  They sat down at the wicker table together, the sun playing beautifully on the silver 
tea service before them.
  
  "You pour, dearest,"  she said to Alex. She laid out the cakes on the plates. Now that 
gave him something to do which he
  
  understood.
  
  Had she ever known a human being who could do all the little things so well? Alex could 
ride, dance, shoot, pour tea, mix delicious American cocktails, slip into the protocol of 
Buckingham Palace without batting an eyelash. He could read an occasional poem with such 
a simulation of feeling that it made her weep. He could kiss very well, too, and there 
was no doubt that marriage with him would have its deeply sensuous moments. No doubt 
whatsoever. But what else would it have?
  
  She felt selfish suddenly. Wasn't all that enough? It hadn't been for her father, a 
merchant prince whose manners were indistinguishable from those of aristocratic friends. 
It had meant nothing at all.
  
  "Drink it, darling, you need it,"  Alex said to her, offering her the cup the way she 
liked it. No milk, no sugar. Only a thin slice of lemon.
  
  Imagine anyone really needing tea.
  
  It seemed the light changed around her; a shadow. She looked up to see that Samir had 
come silently into the room.
  
  "Samir. Sit down. Join us."
  
  He motioned for her to remain where she was. He was holding a leather-bound book in his 
hands.
  
  "Julie,"  he said with a slow and deliberate glance in the direction of the Egyptian 
room," I brought your father's notebook to you. I didn't want to give it to the people at 
the museum."
  
  "Oh, I'm so glad. Do join us, please."
  
  "No, I must return to work immediately. I want to make sure things are done as they 
should be. And you must read this notebook, Julie. The newspapers, they published only 
the bare bones of this story. There is more here. ..."
  
  "Come, sit down,"  she pressed again." We'll take care of that together, later."
  
  After a moment's hesitation, he gave in. He took the chair beside her, giving a little 
polite nod to Alex, to whom he'd been introduced before.
  
  "Julie, your father had only begun his translations. You know his command of the 
ancient tongues..."
  
  "Yes, I'm eager to read it. But what is really troubling you?"  she said earnestly." 
What is wrong?"
  
  Samir pondered, then:" Julie, I am uneasy about this discovery. I am uneasy about the 
mummy and the poisons contained in the tomb."
  
  "Were they really Cleopatra's poisons?"  Alex said quickly." Or is that something the 
reporters dreamed up?"
  
  "No one can say,"  Samir answered politely.
  
  "Samir, everything is carefully labelled,"  Julie said." The servants had been told."
  
  "You don't believe in the curse now, do you?"  Alex asked.
  
  Samir made a little polite smile." No. Nevertheless,"  he said, turning back to Julie." 
Promise me that if you see anything strange, even if you suffer a presentiment, you will