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"I do think it was a bit mean of him not to let that poor young man have one of them, if he was willing to take the risk. Especially as he just wanted to go on working for Science for ever. Fancy what a single man might do if he could just keep right on with his life-work for, say, a thousand years without having to stop it to die and be born again, according to Niti's pet theory.
And now I really think I had better follow Niti's advice, and take my night-cap and go to bed." But as he put out his hand to take the whisky decanter he stopped and pulled it back. "What on earth is the matter with me?" he said, putting his hand to his head. "That decanter is mine it is the same, and yet it is standing in just the same place as that other thing and I remember that, too.
Meanwhile he heard them both groping about the floor after the lamp. The woman found it, and pressed the button. The ray fell on the man's face, and he saw that the olive of his skin had turned to a ghastly grey. His eyes were wide open, and his mouth and nostrils were working with intense excitement. Then the woman turned the ray on Niti's face again.
"It is the command of the Mighty One," whispered the woman, taking hold of the man's hand and drawing him towards the door. "And He must be obeyed," said he in reply, bowing his head and following her. They closed the door very softly behind them. The Professor could not repress a sigh of thankfulness for Niti's escape from what, at best, would have been a very terrible fright.
"I know that voice, or at least I seem to know it, and it is very like Niti's and her mother's; but where can it have come from? Hardly from your lips, my long-dead Royal Egypt," he went on, going up to the mummy-case and peering through his spectacles into the rigid features.
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