“It’s that roll of papyrus,” she sighed. “I wouldn’t mind about the other things. I suppose they could all be replaced from the shops right up here in the city.
“Every item,” he agreed.
At that they did not know the half of it.
A few moments later they hailed a cab and rode up to the strange little city half hidden among the barren hills.
“You’ll not see anything like it for a long time,” he assured her.
Having secured a suite of three rooms in a small hotel, they departed, after depositing their bags, for a look at the city.
“We’ll hire a couple of donkeys,” her father said, “and ride up to the bazaar. That’s the most colorful spot of all, and that too is where we will find my friend of the glorious garden.”
Mary felt very much as if she were riding astride a child’s scooter as their shaggy donkeys crept down the hot, dusty street.
“It all takes you back into the past,” she said.
“Yes, a thousand years.”