It had been a pleasant time, so pleasant, that as I handed in the books
for the last time, I sighed to think that it was over; that not only
was the task finished, but that the recovery of my fair patient's hand,
from which I had that morning removed the splint, had put an end to the
need of my help.
"What shall we do?" I asked, as we came out into the central hall; "it
is too early for tea. Shall we go and look at some of the galleries?"
"Why not?" she answered. "We might look over some of the things
connected with what we have been doing. For instance, there is a relief
of Ahkhenaten upstairs in the Third Egyptian Room; we might go and look
at that."
I fell in eagerly with the suggestion, placing myself under her
experienced guidance, and we started by way of the Roman Gallery, past
the long row of extremely commonplace and modern-looking Roman Emperors.
"I don't know," she said, pausing for a moment opposite a bust labelled
"Trajan" (but obviously a portrait of Phil May), "how I am ever even to
thank you for all that you have done? to say nothing of repayment.
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