“Not a joke, but part of the truth, only. Lawrence was competent in his field and Carchemish was an important Hittite site, but there are many such sites. Why choose one and not another?” he asked playfully. “Because Carchemish was very near a bridge we were building for that new German railway, of course! Lawrence spent a good deal of time taking photographs and making notes that would be of use during the war we both knew was coming. I came to know him rather well …” Suddenly, a cloud seemed to pass over him. Karl shook his head sadly. “He was built like a young bull in those days—not tall, but great strength in the shoulders and chest.” The colonel had not struck me as robust, and I must have looked doubtful because Karl remarked, “It was a hard war for him, I fear.”

He brightened up as we approached the famed Egyptian Museum, an immense building of peony-pink stone. “They held an international competition for its design. Worthy of the splendors it contains but, like Egyptian history, it contains too much. I will remain outside with Rosie while you spend just forty-five minutes in the museum— no more or you will be overwhelmed, dear teacher! You can come back again and again, and you will look at the same objects with different eyes. Learn inside, learn outside, then learn more on your return!”

The museum was laid out clockwise, with the oldest objects to the left of the entrance. Circling, one encountered five thousand years of rulers: Pre-Dynastic, Old Kingdom, New Kingdom, Ptolemaic, Roman, Ottoman.

Despite Karl’s wise advice, I tried to take it all in. The striding vitality of Ka-Aper, whose gleaming eyes seemed alert and lively; the seated Khufre, whose throne is enveloped by the protective wings of Horus; the lifelike statue of Princess Nofret, whose “real” hair can be seen poking out from beneath her royal wig. The sad, severe face of Ramses II, once mighty but now a beak-nosed, lipless mummy exposed to the vulgar curiosity of tourists.