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he war from behind a desk in Cairo。 Another； younger； officer gave him a look of thinly veiled contempt。 〃Johnny Turk was a considerable threat at Rafah； and Gaza won't be easy to take。 The city is ringed round with trenches and they've got fortifications along the ridges all the way from Gaza to Beersheba。〃
The conversation turned to a discussion of strategy and I excused myself。 The remote city of Gaza held no interest for me。
FROM MANUSCRIPT H
Cyrus's soiree was like all his other parties … elegant； genteel； and full of boring people。 Ramses always found Cyrus congenial pany when there were no strangers present； he couldn't understand why a man would willingly endure； much less invite； such a motley mob。 There was no one he wanted to talk to。 His family had deserted him； his mother was chatting with Katherine； Nefret was 〃mingling；〃 and his father； whose social graces were the despair of his wife； had ignored everyone else and gone straight to Bertie。 From his animated gestures and Bertie's deferential pose； Ramses felt certain Emerson was telling him what they had done at Deir el Medina； and what he should do from here on in。
Jumana was with them； looking very pretty in a pale yellow frock that set off her brown skin and sleek black hair。 Ramses wondered how she felt about gatherings like this one。 Even her superb self…confidence must be slightly daunted by so many strangers； many of whom； uncertain about her precise status； ignored or snubbed her。 They wouldn't dare be rude to another of Cyrus's guests； but she was obviously Egyptian and they were not accustomed to mingling socially with 〃natives。〃
His eyes returned； as they had a habit of doing； to his wife。 She saw him； one eyelid lowered in a discreet but unmistakable wink before she returned her attention to the woman with whom she was conversing。 She was tall and stately and glittering with jewels； when she turned her head； pointing out something or someone to Nefret； he knew he'd seen her somewhere； but couldn't remember where。
He was rather enjoying his role as detached observer when someone touched him on the shoulder and he turned。 The face beaming up at him looked vaguely familiar； but he was unable to identify it until the fellow spoke。
〃Albion。 Joe Albion。 We met on the boat ing over。〃
Ramses did not contradict him。 〃I remember you； sir； of course；〃 he said politely。
The little man burst out laughing。 〃No； you don't； young fella。 Tried to meet you folks； but you managed to avoid us。 Did your ma and pa tell you we met the other day on the path to the Valley of the Kings？〃
〃Er … no； sir。〃
〃I asked your pa if he'd introduce me to a few tomb robbers；〃 Albion went on。 〃He said no。 Seemed a little put out。〃
〃Ma〃 and 〃Pa〃 had been bad enough； this bland statement made Ramses choke on his champagne。 Albion smacked him on the back。
〃Shouldn't try to talk and drink at the same time； young fella。 Don't need your advice anyhow； there's plenty of the rascals hereabouts； especially in that village … Gurneh。 Talked to a couple of them the other day。〃
〃Who？〃 Ramses demanded。
〃Fella named Mohammed。〃 Albion chortled。 〃Seems like everybody's named Mohammed。〃
Ramses had recovered himself； though he still couldn't believe the man was serious。 〃I think I know which Mohammed you mean。 You can get in serious trouble dealing with him and his friends； Mr。 Albion。〃
〃Just let me worry about that。〃 The smile was as broad； but for an instant there was a look in the deep…set eyes that made Ramses wonder if Albion was as naive and harmless as he seemed。
〃e meet my son；〃 the little man went on。 His pudgy hand gripped Ramses's arm with unexpected strength； and Ramses allowed himself to be towed toward a young man who stood apart from the rest； slouching a little； a glass of champagne in his hand and an aloof expression on his face。 Probably the same expression that is on my face； Ramses thought。 Either young Mr。 Albion found the other people present not worth his notice； or he was shy。
He straightened to his full height； a little under six feet； when his father came up with Ramses。 His thin reserved face and eyeglasses were those of a scholar； but he looked to be in good physical trim； except for being a bit thick around the middle。 His sharply chiseled features warmed a trifle when his father introduced Ramses。
〃Figure you two young fellas have a lot in mon；〃 the older man went on breezily。 〃Get to know each other； right？ Don't stand on ceremony。 Folks call you Ramses； don't they？ Some sort of private joke； I guess。 Ramses … Sebastian。 Sebastian … Ramses。〃 He chortled。 〃Never could understand the British sense of humor。〃
He trotted off； and Sebastian said； 〃Glad to meet you。 I glanced at your book on Egyptian grammar； seemed quite adequate； but I don't pretend to be an expert on the language。 Egyptian art is my specialty。〃
Not shy。 〃Where did you study？〃 Ramses asked。
〃Harvard。〃
Of course； Ramses thought。 The accent was unmistakable； and pletely different from his father's。 Albion was what his mother would call a 〃mon little man。〃 Ramses rather liked 〃mon〃 people； but he wondered how the jolly； uninhibited Albion had produced such a supercilious； self…consciously intellectual prig。 Sebastian didn't seem to be embarrassed by his father's manners； which was one point in his favor。
Just about the only one。 Young Albion went on。 And on。 He was not inclined to give America's oldest university any credit for his present state of admitted erudition。 〃There's not much being done with Egyptian art qua art；〃 he stated。 〃I had to work it out myself。 I've pretty well exhausted what the Metropolitan Museum and the Boston Museum of Fine Arts have to offer。 A winter in Egypt seemed the logical next step。〃
〃And a spot of tomb robbing？〃 Ramses finally managed to get a word in。 〃I trust your father was joking about that。 A number of people； including my father； wouldn't be amused。〃
〃It goes on all the time； doesn't it？〃
〃To some extent； but …〃
〃Yes； yes；〃 Sebastian said condescendingly。 〃I understand how people like you feel about it。 Now my book …〃
Ramses caught Nefret's eye again and grimaced。 It was a distress signal； and she responded with a grin and a slight nod。
Sebastian rambled on。 He would be writing a book； Ramses thought。 One of those books … the kind that will never be finished； because the author keeps finding additional material。 Ramses had known a few scholars like that； he had always suspected their real reason for procrastinating was a reluctance to risk criticism。 Sebastian declared that it was his intention to view every piece of Egyptian art in the world。 It would be the definitive book on Egyptian art … when he finished it。
〃What are you doing in Luxor； then？〃 Ramses asked。 〃The Cairo Museum …〃
〃Yes； yes； I know。 I will get to the Museum in due course； but I wanted to see the tomb painting in situ； as it were … take photographs； make sketches； and so on。 I'm a collector in a small way； and hoped to pick up a few good pieces here。〃
Ramses realized that if he went on talking to Sebastian he would say something rude。 〃If you'll excuse me；〃 he began。 〃My wife …〃
〃That's she； isn't it？〃 Sebastian's head turned。 〃Lovely woman。 Hope you don't mind my saying so。〃
Ramses did mind； but though Sebastian's tone was mildly offensive； he could not take exception to the words themselves。 Sebastian went on； 〃There's a delicious little creature。 Is she available to anyone； or is Vandergelt keeping her for himself and Bertie？〃
For one incredulous moment； Ramses thought the fellow was referring to Nefret。 Then he realized that Sebastian was looking at Jumana。
Nefret had been on her way to join them when she saw Ramses's face freeze。 It wasn't the old 〃stone pharaoh〃 face that concealed his thoughts； but a sign of fury so consuming it canceled thought and reason and everything else except a primitive need to act。 She crossed the remaining distance in two long steps； slipped her arm through that of her husband； and caught hold of his hand。 Under the pressure of her fingers his own fingers slowly uncurled。 〃You must be Mr。 Sebastian Albion；〃 she said lightly。 〃I've just been talking with your moth