Crocodile on the Sandbank (Amelia Peabody, #1)

by Elizabeth Peters

Skirts flying, parasols waving, we dashed forward, followed by a cloud of sand.

The silence was absolute. It was like being in another world; a world in which life was an intrusion.

Men are frail creatures, of course; one does not expect them to exhibit the steadfastness of women.

What a pity I was not born a hundred years from now! Then I would not have to marry a loud, arrogant, rude man in order to be allowed to excavate.”

Often I find myself remembering that blustery day in Rome, when I went to the rescue of a young English girl who had fainted in the Forum. Little did I realize how strangely our destinies would be intertwined; that that act of simple charity would reward me beyond my wildest dreams, winning for me a friend and sister, a life of busy, fascinating work,