learly and carefully pronounced that he felt he was listening
to an educated woman. Some of the tones were like Pauline's, some were
not, but all were soft, sweet, modulated.

The meaning was clear enough. She wished Marvin to see the
resemblance, and she frowned slightly because the rigid, staring figure
did not respond. Why should she be impatient, this woman of the
Pharaohs who had lain stiff and unresponsive while Babylon and Greece
and Rome and Spain had risen and fallen?

Soon she resorted to pantomime, pointed to herself and the picture,
touched her eyes and nose and mouth and then the corresponding painted
features. She felt of her own jet hair, shook her head and looked
questioningly at the light coiffure of Pauline. She turned to the old
man, evidently asking if the painting were true in this respect. Then
she smiled a smile like Pauline's. Perhaps she was asking if Pauline
had changed the color of her hair.

Now she became interested in a book on the corner of the desk. With
little musical exclamations of delight she turned the printed pages and
appreciated that the shelves contained hundreds more of these
treasures. The typewritten letters lying about excited her admiration
and then the pen and ink. She quickly guessed the use of the pen and
ran eagerly to the mummy case. A moment's search brought forth a long
roll of papyrus. Before Marvin's eyes she unrolled a scroll covered
with Egyptian hieroglyphics.

There were footsteps in the hall and the Egyptian looked toward the
door. Owen entered, looked at Marvin searchingly, placed him in a more
comfortable position in the chair, spoke his name and walked out. What
seemed most surprising to the sick, man was his secretary's oversight
of the girl. He passed in front of her, almost brushing her white robe
and yet it was clear that he did not see her.

But the Egyptian had seen him and the sight had excited her. She
seemed desperately anxious to say something to Marvin, something about
Pauline.

The mummy had a secret to reveal!

She tore the bracelet from her right wrist and tried to force it into
Marvin's nerveless grasp. Try as she would, his muscles did not
respond. There were voices in the hallway. Harry and Pauline were
running downstairs. The Princess gave one last imploring glance at the
paralyzed figure, passed her hand gently over his forehead; then she
stepped quickly back to the case.

Harry and Pauline rushed in, followed