“Of course it was. Who else could it be?”
“I thought——”
“That these dead-and-gone people had suddenly recovered the voice which perished before Isis’ great temple was built. You silly—silly boy. But what were you doing?”
There was so much nineteenth century life about Girzilla that Max thought but little of the bygone Pharoahs.
He told her about unwrapping the mummy, and she chided him for doing it.
“I have looked on that mummy ever since I was so high,” she said, placing her hand about two feet above the floor.
“You have!”
“Of course I have, and I was going to show her to you.”
“You were?”
“Did I not say so?”