But he didn’t enlarge on the theme, or say any more.

‘What I can’t make out is what it’s all about,’ said Mr Coleman in an aggrieved voice.

Emmott shrugged his shoulders but didn’t answer.

I had a rather enlightening conversation with Miss Johnson. I liked her very much. She was capable, practical and intelligent. She had, it was quite obvious, a distinct hero worship for Dr Leidner.

On this occasion she told me the story of his life since his young days. She knew every site he had dug, and the results of the dig. I would almost dare swear she could quote from every lecture he had ever delivered. She considered him, she told me, quite the finest field archaeologist living.

‘And he’s so simple. So completely unworldly. He doesn’t know the meaning of the word conceit. Only a really great man could be so simple.’

‘That’s true enough,’ I said. ‘Big people don’t need to throw their weight about.’

‘And he’s so light-hearted too, I can’t tell you what fun we used to have – he and Richard Carey and I – the first years we were out here. We were such a happy party. Richard Carey worked with him in Palestine, of course. Theirs is a friendship of ten years or so. Oh, well, I’ve known him for seven.’

‘What a handsome man Mr Carey is,’ I said.

‘Yes – I suppose he is.’

She said it rather curtly.

‘But he’s just a little bit quiet, don’t you think?’

‘He usedn’t to be like that,’ said Miss Johnson quickly. ‘It’s only since–’

She stopped abruptly.

‘Only since–?’ I prompted.

‘Oh, well.’ Miss Johnson gave a characteristic motion of her shoulders. ‘A good many things are changed nowadays.’

I didn’t answer. I hoped she would go on – and she did – prefacing her remarks with a little laugh as though to detract from their importance.

‘I’m afraid I’m rather a conservative old fogy. I sometimes think that if an archaeologist’s wife isn’t really interested, it would be wiser for her not to accompany the expedition. It often leads to friction.’

‘Mrs Mercado–’ I suggested.

‘Oh, her!’ Miss Johnson brushed the suggestion aside. ‘I was really thinking of Mrs Leidner. She’s a very charming woman – and one can quite understand why Dr Leidner “fell for her” – to use a slang term. But I can’t help feeling she’s out of place here. She – it unsettles things.’

So Miss Johnson agreed with Mrs Kelsey that it was Mrs Leidner who was responsible for the strained atmosphere. But then where did Mrs Leidner’s own nervous fears come in?

‘It unsettles him,’ said Miss Johnson earnestly. ‘Of course I’m – well, I’m like a faithful but jealous old dog. I don’t like to see him so worn out and worried. His whole mind ought to be on the work – not taken up with his wife and her silly fears! If she’s nervous of coming to out-of-the-way places, she ought to have stayed in America. I’ve no patience with people who come to a place and then do nothing but grouse about it!’

And then, a little fearful of having said more than she meant to say, she went on: ‘Of course I admire her very much. She’s a lovely woman and she’s got great charm of manner when she chooses.’

And there the subject dropped.

I thought to myself that it was always the same way – wherever women are cooped up together, there’s bound to be jealousy. Miss Johnson clearly didn’t like her chief’s wife (that was perhaps natural) and unless I was much mistaken Mrs Mercado fairly hated her.

Another person who didn’t like Mrs Leidner was Sheila Reilly. She came out once or twice to the dig, once in a car and twice with some young man on a horse – on two horses I mean, of course. It was at the back of my mind that she had a weakness for the silent young American, Emmott. When he was on duty at the dig she used to stay talking to him, and I thought, too, that he admired her.

One day, rather injudiciously, I thought, Mrs Leidner commented upon it at lunch.

‘The Reilly girl is still hunting David down,’ she said with a little laugh. ‘Poor David, she chases you up on the dig even! How foolish girls are!’

Mr Emmott didn’t answer, but under his tan his face got rather red. He raised his eyes and looked right into hers with a very curious expression – a straight, steady glance with something of a challenge in it.

She smiled very faintly and looked away.

I heard Father Lavigny murmur something, but when I said ‘Pardon?’ he merely shook his head and did not repeat his remark.

That afternoon Mr Coleman said to me: ‘Matter of fact I didn’t like Mrs L. any too much at first. She used to jump down my throat every time I opened my mouth. But I’ve begun to understand her better now. She’s one of the kindest women I’ve ever met. You find yourself telling her all the foolish scrapes you ever got into before you know where you are. She’s got her knife into Sheila Reilly, I know, but then Sheila’s been damned rude to her once or twice. That’s the worst of Sheila – she’s got no manners. And a temper like the devil!’

That I could well believe. Dr Reilly spoilt her.

‘Of course she’s bound to get a bit full of herself, being the only young woman in the place. But that doesn’t excuse her talking to Mrs Leidner as though Mrs Leidner were her great-aunt. Mrs L.’s not exactly a chicken, but she’s a damned good-looking woman. Rather like those fairy women who come out of marshes with lights and lure you away.’ He added bitterly, ‘You wouldn’t find Sheila luring anyone. All she does is to tick a fellow off.’

I only remember two other incidents of any kind of significance.

One was when I went to the laboratory to fetch some acetone to get the stickiness off my fingers from mending the pottery. Mr Mercado was sitting in a corner, his head was laid down on his arms and I fancied he was asleep. I took the bottle I wanted and went off with it.

That evening, to my great surprise, Mrs Mercado tackled me.

‘Did you take a bottle of acetone from the lab?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I did.’

‘You know perfectly well that there’s a small bottle always kept in the antika-room.’

She spoke quite angrily.

‘Is there? I didn’t know.’

‘I think you did! You just wanted to come spying round. I know what hospital nurses are.’

I stared at her.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mrs Mercado,’ I said with dignity. ‘I’m sure I don’t want to spy on anyone.’

‘Oh, no! Of course not. Do you think I don’t know what you’re here for?’

Really, for a minute or two I thought she must have been drinking. I went away without saying any more. But I thought it was very odd.

The other thing was nothing very much. I was trying to entice a dog pup with a piece of bread. It was very timid, however, like all Arab dogs – and was convinced I meant no good. It slunk away and I followed it – out through the archway and round the corner of the house. I came round so sharply that before I knew I had cannoned into Father Lavigny and another man who were standing together – and in a minute I realized that the second man was the same one Mrs Leidner and I had noticed that day trying to peer through the window.

I apologized and Father Lavigny smiled, and with a word of farewell greeting to the other man he returned to the house with me.

‘You know,’ he said. ‘I am very ashamed. I am a student of Oriental languages and none of the men on the work can understand me! It is humiliating, do you not think? I was trying my Arabic on that man, who is a townsman, to see if I got on better – but it still wasn’t very successful. Leidner says my Arabic is too pure.’

That was all. But it just passed through my head that it was odd the same man should still be hanging round the house.

That night we had a scare.

It must have been about two in the morning. I’m a light sleeper, as most nurses have to be. I was awake and sitting up in bed by the time that my door opened.