"Ah, but there is one of that name, too."
He brightened a little, but grew sad again.
"Only one?" he said.
"Do you think there should be more of that name?" I asked.
He sat up quite straight.
"In my time they would all have borne that great name," he said.
"And—ah, wouldn't that be a bit confusing?"
"Not at all. I have set up as many as a hundred statues in one temple—all of Rameses the Great. They were not at all confusing. You knew all of them immediately."
"True enough; and now I think of it, perhaps you have not heard that they have made your portrait as you lie here, and, by a magic process of ours, have placed it on a sort of papyrus tablet—a postal card we call it—and by another process have sent thousands of them over the world."
He looked at me with eyes that penetrated my conscience.