This novel begins with grand adventure. Someone is sneaking into an Egyptian tomb, confronting a mummy, and looking for secrets. It reminds me of the scene where the main character in another adventure thriller lowers himself into the tomb of a long-dead Arab sheik. I don’t remember the name of it. But it’s probably from the same time period. It seems that the Victorian and Edwardian eras had all the really good stuff. Everything since then has been only a shadow of former glory when it comes to novels, especially adventure, mystery, and thriller novels. Everything now is gritty. Back then it was romantic.