was so great that she felt in a most melting
was not crazy. And she knew she did not
mood toward the manager of her affairs.
dream these yearly episodes which wove that
“Very well,” she said. “Tell him I am
strange, irrelevant, and inexplicable pattern ready to sign those proxies for him and wind through her otherwise normal and sane things up. Wait, help me up first.” She threw existence.
back the silken coverlet, preparatory to sitting
“No! No!” she cried out in horror now
up. “Bring over the—”
against a dread of she knew not what as her
She broke off in stunned horror. As
skeleton completely disappeared.
But her protests were as naught to this
parchment and dried bones. As she tossed
high priest of Ammon who was the back the cover, instead of a satin night counterpart of Artemus Russo. And Marjorie
negligee from Paris upon the lovely body of a
became aware of a pair of hands, cold and
twenty-five-year-old beauty, she exposed the
clammy as early morning fog off the Sound,
gray-brown and dried skin of an Egyptian
which gripped her head. She rolled her eyes to
mummy. Her hands were two shrunken claws,
Strange Stories
the outline of the bones showing plainly from
the room where her mistress’ prized
elbow to fingers.
sarcophagus stood, and she screamed. The lid
One terrible shriek Marjorie was off, and the headless mummy that should Westbrook gave ere death overtook her. The
have reposed in the case was gone!
horrible episodes of her nocturnal life had
“Mr. Russo! Mr. Russo!” she cried as
finally broken through the barrier that had
she fled to the outer room. Her voice choked,
always surrounded and protected her—had cut off abruptly as she stared at the couch overtaken her at last. The six thousand years
were up!
Lying full-length on the couch was Artemus
The maid stared, petrified, at the Russo, his body as still as death and his face lovely head perfectly joined to that of the six-parchment yellow and amazingly, horribly
thousand- year- old mummy of an Egyptian
wrinkled with lines that told of the passage of
woman. Her eyes rolled wildly to a corner of
centuries.