Dear Professor Simmons,
I write to you in regards to your letter of refusal to my recent application. However, rest assured that this letter will not contain any attempt to dissuade you from your decision nor will it contain any remonstrations towards said decision.
Instead, it will attempt to outline several points in which, I am sorry to say, your institution has fallen quite short of the mark.
The first point I would like to address is the shocking mistake in translation you made with respect to the location of the golden book of Amu-Ra…
Evelyn looked at Rick who was looking at her in disbelief. They had stopped for the evening after riding away from the ruins of Hamunaptra and the two of them, as well as Jonathan, were currently sitting around a small fire that Rick had managed to create.
“A letter?” he said as though he’d never heard the word before.
“What’s wrong with that?” she asked.
“We almost got torn apart,” Rick explained, “and Egypt was actually attacked locusts and flies and boils and sores and, and--"
“Water turning into blood and that sand thing,” Jonathan added gesturing with his flask.
“Yeah, that stuff, too,” Rick said while Evelyn frowned at both of them. “My point is, we almost got killed and your next move is to write a strongly worded letter?”
“Of course,” Evelyn said planting her hands on her hips, not the most graceful of moves when one was currently sitting on the sand next to a fire. “How else will the Bembridge Scholars realize that they have areas which require significant improvement?”
She watched as Rick looked at Jonathan and quite plainly asked with his eyes: ‘Is this normal?’
To his credit, Jonathan merely grinned and toasted Evy.
“You tell them, little sister,” he said. “And don’t forget to tell them they’re absolute rotters for not letting you in in the first place.”
“Thank you, Jonathan,” Evy said beaming at her brother. “But this will be merely a letter that outlines their failures. I won’t be listing their rejection of my application as one of them.” She thought for a moment. “Although, I should.”
“Wow,” Rick said shaking his head.
“Well, what is your solution?” Evy asked. “March into Cambridgeshire, guns blazing?”
“Never been to Cambridgeshire,” Rick said. “How’s the weather?”
“Miserable, my good man,” Jonathan said. “Grey and wet and miserable.” He thought for a moment. “Decent pubs, however.”
“Honestly,” Evy said. “While what we have been dealing with is, I grant you, rather outside of academia--"
“’Outside’? More like leagues away and verging on the edge of the map,” Rick said. “Here be monsters. Literally.”
“As I was saying,” Evy continued whilst glaring at him. “The fact remains that I really must tell them of their inadequacies and attempt to consider this experience from a purely academic point of view.”
“Well, good luck with that,” Rick said checking his remaining pistol.
“Oh, come on, O’Connell,” Jonathan said sitting up. “We’ve done it! Defeated the evil! Sent him back to wherever. Done and dusted. As in it is all dust now. All of it. What else could possibly happen?”
They all looked at the fire, which merrily continued to burn without going out.
Evy breathed a sigh of relief and then felt ridiculous for doing so. She continued to gaze into the fire, grateful for the warmth of the flames and of Rick at her side. Which, she was pleased to note, he had not left since they rode away from the ruins of Hamunaptra. She’d caught Jonathan’s raised eyebrows and look that clearly said they’d be speaking later, but she’d ignored it, content and warm in Rick’s arms.
Feeling drowsy, Evelyn let herself lean against Rick’s side. He kept on cleaning and checking his gun, but did press a quick kiss to the top of her head. She smiled, then frowned as a deeply sad thought struck her.
“Poor Dr Bey,” Evy said. “We disagreed on so much, but he was always there. Our parents thought so well of him.” She sighed. “As did I.”
“Poor Winston,” Jonathan said after a quick belt. “Good man.” He tilted his head. “And a good drinking partner.”
“Poor Beni,” Rick said. Then he stopped and just stared into the fire, his gun clenched in his hands. Evy felt her heart thud in her chest. She wondered how often he just suppressed what he was feeling?
“Poor Beni,” she repeated quietly. Rick looked over at her and she just steadily stared back at him.
Rick shook his head. “He was a weasel and a snitch and a creep, but—“ He stopped again and seemed lost.
“At one point, he was your comrade-in-arms?” Evy offered.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rick said nodding. “At one point.”
Evy pressed her hand to his forearm and he covered her hand with his. She marvelled at how large his hand was to hers, how his fingers were so strong; even the folds on his knuckles exuded strength and a lifetime of fighting. She looked at his face and saw that he was staring at her with such longing and tenderness, she felt light-headed. Oh, how she wanted him to kiss her again.
Jonathan gave a very loud ‘ahem’. Evy tore her gaze away from Rick to glare at her brother, who was attempting to glare at her, but was only managing a smirking kind of amusement.
“I’m not playing the gooseberry, old mum,” he said. “So stop with the gazing.”
“Oh, hush, Jonathan,” she said crossly. “As though you’re one to talk. Need I remind you of Belinda Cartwright?”
“Evy! Belinda Cartwright was the soul of gentility,” Jonathan said indignantly.
“Until she met you, that is,” Evy told him.
Rick chuckled and Evy grinned at him.
“Oh, take her side,” Jonathan said to Rick. “I see how it is. So much for masculine solidarity.”
“Sorry, Jonathan,” Rick said. “And you’d better get used to it. A man’s got to side with his wife, even over his brother-in-law.”
Evy’s eyes widened and her hand tightened on Rick’s forearm. Jonathan made an odd choking noise while Rick blinked.
Wife? she thought.
“Wife?” she asked out loud.
Rick looked at her with a wince. “Yeah. I’m supposed to actually ask you, aren’t I?”
The second point I feel I must bring to your attention is the serious lack of information and study on female figures in history. Need I remind you that women have played substantial and important roles in every single civilization in recorded history? They have influenced politics, industry, war and peace. To blithely dismiss them is not only irresponsible but - and I do not use this word flippantly - dangerous.
It hadn’t been hyperbole. The truth of the matter was that Evy had dreamt about ‘this’ since she was a little girl. Not about mummies exactly, but about discovering something no one had seen in hundreds of years.
She remembered sitting in her mother’s lap, Jonathan on the floor next to them, as their father had told them stories of the past, of Egypt, of Greece, of Britain, of anything and everything he knew. The fact that it was all real had resonated in her and would continue to do so all through school and university.
The first book she bought when she arrived in Egypt was a copy of Thuthmoses (which still sits on her bedside table, the pages worn with use).
Getting married and having a family, well, she had always figured it would happen eventually, as those types of things did. But it had been a hazy certainty, as though she was looking at it from a great distance away.
However, as she stood in her sitting room at the fort the day after they had finally returned from Hamunaptra, with Rick standing in front of her with an earnest if somewhat chagrined look on his face, it occurred to Evy that perhaps she had somehow wandered that great distance and the certainty of marriage was no longer quite so hazy.
“Marriage?” She knew she was repeating herself, but she was past caring about redundancy.
“Yeah, you know,” Rick made a gesture with his hands. “Get hitched. Tie the knot. Take the plunge. The old ball and chain—“
“Stop!” Evy held up her hands. “Stop talking.” She breathed deeply, trying to remember that she did actually care about the man standing in front of her and the fact that he was talking nonsense was proof that he cared for her, too and was simply incapable of expressing himself rationally.
He proved her right by stepping forward and taking her hands in his. He grimaced and said, “Evelyn.”
“Rick,” she said looking up at him and oh how tall he was.
“I-- Well, the thing is--- Damn it, I love you,” he mumbled.
“You do?” she asked exasperated with herself for sounding so incredulous.
He nodded and swallowed. Hard. “Yes. Very much.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “I love you, too.”
A corner of his mouth began to curve up in that cheeky way of his. Evy tightened her grip on his hands.
“But,” she said.
“Of course there’s a ‘but’,” Rick said with a sigh.
“Well, yes. You see,” Evy tried. “I love you, but I also love my work. My studies. Egyptology. In fact, it was quite possibly my first love.”
“Evelyn, I know that,” he said looking confused.
She lifted her chin. “I won’t stop my research.”
“I—didn’t know you had to,” he said his brow furrowing.
“Well, surely, you won’t,” she said. “I mean, don’t you want a, well, proper wife?”
“Wait. Wait,” he said pulling her closer to him and trying to look in her eyes, which she was making difficult by not meeting his gaze. “Evy. Do you really think that I would want you to give up your life’s work? Because I want a ‘proper wife’?”
His voice bordered between stern and amused. So Evy answered hesitantly. “No?”
He chuckled, actually chuckled. “Lady, you are a force of nature.”
“I beg your pardon?” she asked trying to pull her hands away.
“Stop it, it’s not an insult,” he said. “I just mean…” He looked up at the ceiling in supplication. “You’re like this Sirocco that has just blown into my life and instead of covering me with sand and getting grit in my eyes, you’ve just…made me…want all this stuff I’ve never wanted before and, yeah, I want to marry you. I want to see where you’re going to next and I want to be with you when you get there.”
Evy couldn’t breathe. She felt as though someone had just opened that tiny safe in her heart that had always hoped for a love and a partnership as strong as her parents’.
Her voice was not as strong as she would have wished as she said, “You do realize you just compared me to a rather destructive weather phenomenon?”
“Yeah, well, I’m not good with words,” Rick said rolling his eyes.
“Oh, no, quite the opposite,” Evy said stepping close to him, her skirt brushing against his legs. “I think you’re very gifted with words.”
“And you haven’t actually answered me yet,” he said seriously looking her in the eye. “Evelyn Carnahan, are you going to marry me or not?”
“Oh, Rick,” she breathed smiling. “Of course I am. Did you really think that I wouldn’t?”
“Well, you did look kinda horrified a couple of minutes ago,” he said his light tone not masking the massive grin that was spreading across his face.
“That’s only because you actually used the word ‘hitched’ to describe marriage,” she said. “Any self-respecting woman would feel a hint of trepidation when confronted with such a term. Honestly, Rick, ‘ball and chain’?
“Lecture me on my bad choice of colloquialisms later,” he said leaning down. “Kiss me now.”
“Oh, alright,” she said as her eyes fluttered shut and the now familiar rush of happiness and pleasure she felt when he kissed her swept through her body.
“Evy! Did you see what was in our saddlebags—Oh, for crying out loud! Are you two still at it? O’Connell, I hope you’re still planning on making an honest woman out of her. Otherwise, this is just not on.”
Evy pulled back and glared at her brother. “Jonathan, despite all evidence to the contrary, you were not raised by wolves, kindly knock next time.”
Then she looked up at Rick and said, “And no. He’s not going to make an honest woman out of me.”
Rick raised his eyebrows. “I’m not?”
“Oh no,” she said starting to grin. “I’m going to make an honest man out of him.”
Rick grinned back.
“Well, it’s about time, old mum,” Jonathan said his own grin appearing. Evy bounced a bit on her toes and then rushed over to hug him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and swung her about making her shriek.
“Oh, you terror!” she said when he put her back down.
“Always, baby sister,” he said kissing her forehead. “Always.” He turned to Rick. “And welcome to the family, O’Connell.”
“Thanks, Jonathan,” Rick said shaking Jonathan’s hand.
“Drinks all around!” Jonathan headed over to the side table to pour.
“Jonathan, what were you saying about the saddlebags?” Evy asked after drinks had been poured.
Jonathan nearly choked. “Oh right! Well, let’s just say I’m not going to have to struggle too much to arrange a dowry for you.”
The third point which needs to be made is one in regards to field experience. One must always be aware of the impact we as explorers make upon the environment and even the people we come into contact with. In truth, I believe that more responsibility and accountability must be taken on by those in the field.
However, I will concede the point that some things must be experienced to have a greater understanding of them.
Evy stood in the library and marvelled that the ‘reorganisation’ that her assistants had embarked on in her absence had created an even worse mess than she had.
“Oh, this is going to take forever,” she said out loud. Then she straightened her shoulders and started to make a schedule of tasks.
An hour later, she heard a voice say, “Wow. This is awful.”
She looked up from her schedule and smiled when she saw Rick standing in the doorway. “Oh, hello. What are you doing here?”
“Well, I had planned on asking if you’d like to go for lunch with me,” he said looking at the mess of books and bookshelves and paper. “But, I’m wondering if you’d rather have a couple of shovels to shift all this stuff.”
“Rick,” Evy said crossly. “You are looking at generations upon generations of research and rare books. You could hardly use shovels to move them about.” She looked around and sighed heavily. “Although the thought does have merit.”
Rick chuckled and made his way over to her. “Don’t you have people who can help you with this?”
Evy nodded. “I do. But they, well, they were related to Dr Bey and are in the midst of their mourning. I’d hardly interrupt them to help with something that was most certainly my fault.”
She bit her lip and looked away as her eyes suddenly stung with tears, unsure if she was saddened by the loss of her old friend or because it had been her fault. Not just the mess in the library but the bringing to life of Imhotep.
“Hey,” Rick said softly, his finger gently caressed her cheek. “This wasn’t your fault.”
“Oh, but it was, Rick,” she said staring at the space where the G’s used to be. “All of it. I was so, so arrogant. Oh, I behaved precisely like all those other archaeologists who just trample all over everything just to be the first to say they were there. How hateful is that? How hateful am I?”
“Whoa, hey, hey now,” Rick said, his hands cupping her upper arms and turning her to face him. Evy reluctantly met his eyes. “You are not hateful, Evelyn. You are energetic and driven and curious and yeah, you probably should have hesitated before opening that book. But, you didn’t do it with the intention to destroy anything.”
“Small consolation when all I did was destroy things,” she said.
Rick shook his head. “No. Imhotep destroyed. Not you. Evy, did you know that reading from the book would bring him to life?”
“No, ‘buts’,” Rick said lowering his head to look steadily into her eyes.
“Ah! Nope,” he said. “I mean it.”
Evy opened her mouth to protest once again and Rick just raised his eyebrows expectantly. She sighed. “You are infuriating.”
“Right back atcha,” he said starting to grin. “Now, how about lunch? ‘Cause I’m still not used this whole talking deeply thing.”
“Ridiculous man,” she said giving in to her urge to smile. She still felt responsible and guilty, but knew she could sort through her feelings with a bit more equanimity now that she knew that Rick, at least, didn’t blame her. “And I’d love to, but I’m about to make some real headway here.”
Rick looked around the library. “Really? How can you tell?”
“Because I’ve gotten the card catalogue sorted and in order, which means that I can start in on the books,” Evy said cheerfully.
“Right,” Rick said shaking his head. “And I don’t suppose there’s anything I could say or do to change your mind?”
Evy frowned. “You’re not going to throw me over your shoulder again, are you? While, I admit to feeling the tiniest of thrills at what the action represented, I most certainly did not appreciate the sensation in the slightest.”
“You felt a thrill, hunh?” Rick asked giving her that charming smile of his.
“I also found it highly presumptuous or did you not hear the rest of my comment just now?” she asked.
“Not a word,” he said stepping close to her. “I tuned out after you said ‘thrills’.”
“Brute,” she said without much heat.
“Yep,” he said leaning down to brush his lips over hers.
Evy let out the softest of sighs against his mouth and it produced the most interesting reaction in him. He groaned and slid his hands around her waist and pulled her close to him, his mouth moving over hers with more force.
It isn’t forceful, though, she thought absently as her arms circled his neck. Oh, how lovely this feels. Oh—
Her thought process stopped abruptly when she felt his tongue gently trace the seam of her lips and she parted them more on instinct than actual experience. Evy was supremely grateful for the support of his arms as she was sure the butterflies in her stomach were going to fly off into the sky, taking her with them.
Eventually, he pulled back and she blinked up at him and smiled when she saw how mussed his hair was from her own hands and how pink his lips looked from her own lips.
“You stole that tool-kit, didn’t you?” she said in a daze, speaking before her mind had a chance to catch up with her.
“Uh, yeah, yeah, I did,” Rick said with the look that he often got when she said something out of the blue appearing on his face. “What made you think of that?”
“Mmm, because you’ve stolen the breath from me,” she said slowly raising her eyes from looking at his lips to look him in the eyes.
A smile that was decidedly smug and wicked spread across his face. “Not stealing,” he said. “Borrowing.” Then he leant back towards her and she met him halfway and oh, she could do this all day.
But she certainly thought about it.
My fourth point is in relation to the inability to simply admit ignorance when confronted with an item or practice that, upon first glance, has no meaning or identification. There is nothing more revealing of one’s failure to grasp the importance of something than disguising it within lavish language…
When Evy was eight years old she was invited and subsequently allowed to visit with Gwendolyn Archer. The girls had met through both of their mothers being on some committee or other within the city.
The afternoon did not go as young Evy had supposed it would. First of all, Gwendolyn preferred to stay inside her room and not go outside where she might ‘dirty her lovely, lovely dress’. Evy had frowned but acquiesced to playing with Gwendolyn’s dolls. But then, Gwendolyn seemed to be utterly pre-occupied with playing ‘wedding’ and this involved a long and drawn out process and Evy was beyond bored.
At long length, she requested directions to the lavatory if only to escape the tedious activity. However, she got lost along the way and found herself standing just outside what must have been Mrs Archer’s sitting room. Mrs Archer was entertaining some of the other ladies from the community.
“I heard the little Carnahan girl is over playing with Gwendolyn?” said one lady. wearing a ridiculous stole that appeared to be made out of some poor little furry creature.
“Oh, yes,” Mrs Archer said sipping her tea. “She’s a polite little thing, if a bit too clever for my tastes. Of course, that’s what happens when someone marries outside of their sphere.”
Evy frowned. What sphere?
“What on earth does that woman bring to the union, I ask you?” another woman asked. “I mean, she’s polite enough, but Reginald Carnahan could have done so much better for himself. And have you seen the way he looks at her? Utterly besotted. It’s so foolish of him.”
“All that display,” the woman with the furry animal on her shoulders said. “It’s quite deplorable.”
“Well, she’s a foreigner, what else could you expect?” Mrs Archer said leaning forward. “It’s a disgraceful marriage, to be sure. I even heard they were married over there and not in a respectable setting. He’s married beneath him and he will regret it, I’m sure.”
Evy turned away from the door and silently went back to Gwendolyn’s room where Gwendolyn spent the remainder of the afternoon having Evy dress up her dolls over and over again.
When Evy returned home, her mother smiled at her and asked if she’d enjoyed herself. Evy, to this day, can still remember how her face had crumbled and she’d thrown herself at her mother in tears.
Her mother never asked what happened, but Evy never went back to the Archers.
Therefore, as she and Rick sat in the chaplain’s office at the fort and the chaplain went on about ‘sanctity’ and ‘propriety’ and ‘making sure that the union is one of equals’ as he eyed Rick’s clothing and sniffed when Evy told him that she had an occupation, all Evy could think of is the cold look on Gwendolyn’s mother’s face when she said ‘respectable setting’ as if that was something to aspire to.
Her hand tightened around Rick’s and his tightened back.
Neither of them could take it much more when the chaplain said, “And of course, to be married in a church is the only way to certify that your union will be one of respectability and not, ahem, to hide any, shall we say, prior indiscretions.”
“Right, that’s it. We’ll let you know,” Rick said standing up, Evy just a second behind him.
They walked out of the chaplain’s office with matching looks of anger and disgust.
“Did that man just accuse us of—“ Evy tried to find the words.
“Of wanting a shot-gun marriage because you might be knocked up?” Rick said. “Yep. The bastard. And you said I couldn’t bring my guns.”
“Well, you can’t go around shooting chaplains because they’re judgmental and ignorant,” Evy said. “Although it’s awfully tempting.”
They eventually slowed down their furious pace and as they approached on of the gardens, Evy sighed.
“That…wasn’t, well, us, was it?” Evy asked slowly. “The whole dignified and in a church setting. It just seemed as though it was more about… Oh, I don’t know—words. Too many words and not enough honesty. And that just isn’t us, is it?”
“No, no, it really isn’t,” Rick said his voice going soft and low. She smiled and leaned up to kiss him, lingering only slightly.
Then she fell back on her heels. “Registry. I think Jonathan knows who can do it.”
“Or he owes money to someone who knows,” Rick said under his breath. Evy elbowed him. “Ouch. Easy there, tough stuff.”
My final point is possibly the most important and it is one I see occurring again and again. It is the failure of archaeologists, historians and Egyptologists to properly understand the entire scope of the field they study.
It is not enough to just show up and dig in the dirt and expect the answers to simply fall into your lap. One must study, one must immerse oneself, one must make mistakes and learn from them.
Above all, one must keep an open and flexible mind.
It isn’t any surprise that Evy maintained very suspicious thoughts regarding marriage throughout her life. She longed for the true, loving partnership that her parents had, while society, and everyone she knew, seemed to promote something else entirely. Something that was more impersonal and tied up in strings and weighted down with strictures; something that, in her opinion, was highly undesirable.
Therefore when the registrar asked Rick the simple of question of did he take this woman to be his wife and Rick replied with an even simpler ‘I do’, Evy felt her heart beat strongly in her chest as a feeling of rightness settled over and within her.
Her own simple answer of ‘I do’ made her smile and tear up all at the same time and judging by the suspicious sounds coming from Jonathan behind her, she wasn’t the only one who was going to need handkerchief with this was all over and done with.
She wasn’t. They all actually needed the handkerchief before they departed to the small restaurant in the fort.
After a lovely lunch and one bottle of wine and Jonathan clearing his throat and hugging Evy tightly and heading out to find some of his friends, Evy found herself alone in new room with Rick. Her husband.
She was Evelyn O’Connell.
It sounded quite nice. So she said it out loud.
“I kinda like the sound of that,” Rick said coming to stand close to her, his hands sliding around her waist.
“So do I,” she said letting her own hands smooth up over his chest to rest on his shoulders. “Rick. We’re married. We’re married and I’m so happy.”
“You say that like the two things are mutually exclusive,” he said with a chuckle.
“Well, in some ways, they are,” she said one hand dropping to play with one of the buttons of his shirts. “The only marriage I ever saw that seemed truly happy was my parents’. And I’m having to reconsider my previous assumptions and well--"
“Archaeologists hate having their assumptions proved wrong, right?” he asked leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead.
“Something like that,” she said sheepishly glancing up at him. “Oh, listen to me.” She lifted herself up on her toes and kissed his mouth firmly and warmly. “I’m so very happy, Rick O’Connell. I think this marriage is going to be absolutely wonderful.”
“It won’t be boring, that’s for sure,” he said against her lips. She smiled and then let his kisses sweep her thoughts away while he swept her body up into his arms and into the bedroom.
Hours later, as they laid in bed, Evy dazedly dragging her fingers over Rick’s chest, he said, “I actually have something for you.”
“Again?” Evy said lifting her head. “And was that a line?”
Rick snorted. “No, it wasn’t a line, you little minx. I have a gift for you. I found it in all that stuff that came from Hamunaptra.”
“Really?” Evy smiled and shifted her body up to kiss him. “Thank you.”
Rick kissed her back, his hands cradling her head. “You’re welcome. It’s in desk drawer.”
Evy pecked his lips once more and then rolled out of bed to walk over the desk scooping up Rick’s abandoned shirt and hurriedly putting it on. She opened the drawer and saw a red velvet pouch and picked it up. The she scurried back to the bed and sat down with her back to the head board. Rick sat up next to her, covering their lower bodies with the sheet.
Evy carefully opened the pouch and upended the contents into her palm. She gasped. “Oh, Rick. It’s beautiful.”
A golden amulet with the figure of a female warrior with wings lay in her palm. The detail of the feathers was intricate and precise. The amulet itself was oval about half an inch thick with the figure of the goddess on the front.
“It’s Ma’at,” Evy said quietly. “She’s the goddess of truth and law. It is said that she gave life to the other gods. Oh, Rick, she’s so lovely.”
“Truth and law, hunh?” Rick said ghosting his lips over Evy’s bare shoulder. “Sounds about right for you.”
Evy turned her head and smiled. “Thank you.” She pressed her lips to his and happily parted them when he ran his tongue over the seam. Her fingers curled around the amulet as their kisses strengthened. A loud click had her pulling away in astonishment. Evy looked down at her hand and unfurled her fingers. The amulet sat in her palm slightly open along one curve.
Evy looked at Rick. He blinked and shook his head. “I…did not know it was going to do that. Although, I can't say I'm surprised.”
She opened the amulet and saw an inscription etched on the inside. “Rick, I think these are directions. But directions to what, I wonder…”
“Here we go,” Rick said letting his head drop onto her shoulder, while Evy thought.
“Ma’at was primarily known for her temple at Karnak,” Evy said drawing her legs up underneath her. “What if this leads to a compartment there? What if it leads to information about the goddess herself? What if—"
“What if I go ahead and cancel the reservation on the room so we can catch the first barge down the river towards Karnak?” Rick offered raising his head from her shoulder.
Evy looked at him in surprise. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah, why not?” he said with a shrug. “I knew what I was getting myself into. If you want us to head out towards Karnak, we can head out towards Karnak.”
Evy stared warmly at her husband (and oh, that sounded lovely: her husband). She turned away from him and set the amulet on the bedside table. Then she turned back to him with a smile and said, “Karnak has been there for several thousand years. It will be there in a few days.”
Rick just grinned and lowered himself into her open arms.
In conclusion, I would simply like to say that while I have nothing but respect for the prestige that your institution represents, until certain changes are made, I fear that the field of Egyptology will suffer and stagnate.
I sincerely hope this small letter of critique will create new avenues of discussion amongst those already established within your learned walls.
Mrs Evelyn O’Connell née Carnahan