outside. Even opet, her father's cousin, who worked with her, had stopped talking, stopped her constant angry complaining about her feet and her back and the laziness of the other workers The noise from the street grew louder The girl stood up and went to the window. She could see a crowd gathering outside, near the carpenter's shed where her father worked. For a moment, she imagined him bending over the coffin he was carving, smiling as he rarely did at home, now that hermother had left them for the Underworld. The crowd of people parted and fell silent as a tall man elbowed his way to the front. She recognised him. It was Nakhte the chief scribe, and he was followed by the mediay police. They walked past the bakery and on towards the carpentry shed. "What's the matter?" asked the girl "The tombs have been robbed," said Opet "They are going to arrest the thief' The girl shivered, despite the clammy warmth of the bakery What's your father been doing Opet nudged her as the scribe made his way into the carpenter's workshop. "Not robbing the dead, l hope She sniggered at her own joke. The girl turned away. Sometimes she hated Opet. A stir of excitement among the crowd made her look up again. The mediay police had re-appeared, pushing a man in front of them. The girl craned her neck to see better, then cried out in dismay.