There's nothing new under the sun, you know, Mr.Corbeck; not even in Egypt.

These may be the originals, and yours may have been the copies.

Are there any points by which you can identify these as yours ?" Mr.Corbeck was really angry by this time.

He forgot his reserve; and in his indignation poured forth a torrent of almost incoherent, but enlightening, broken sentences: "Identify! Copies of them! British Museum! Rot! Perhaps they keep a set in Scotland Yard for teaching idiot policemen Egyptology! Do I know them?
When I have carried them about my body, in the desert, for three months; and lay awake night after night to watch them! When I have looked them over with a magnifying-glass, hour after hour, till my eyes ached; till every tiny blotch, and chip, and dinge became as familiar to me as his chart to a captain; as familiar as they doubtless have been all the time to every thick-headed area-prowler within the bounds of mortality.

See here, young man, look at these!" He ranged the lamps in a row on the top of the cabinet.