Emerson pushed his plate away and planted his elbows on the table-a deplorable habit of which I have not succeeded in breaking him. “Is that so, Peabody? Perhaps you would care to cite a few examples.”

Though I would never have admitted it to Emerson, it had been some time since I had dipped into the Old Testament. I promised myself I would do so immediately after luncheon. “Do your own research, Emerson. You wouldn’t take my word anyhow. Nefret, my dear, you haven’t eaten a thing. You seem a trifle out of sorts these days. Is something worrying you?”

The disingenuous attempt to change the subject succeeded. Emerson, who adores his adopted daughter, glanced at her in alarm.

“No. Well…I miss the boys. Not that you and the professor aren’t splendid company,” she added quickly. “But with David in Yorkshire and Ramses off in the wilds of Palestine…”

“You have no one to play with,” I suggested.

Nefret returned my smile. “I suppose that was how it sounded. Oh, it is perfectly understandable that David would rather be with Lia; they’re madly in love and it will be some time before they can be married. But why did Ramses go haring off to Palestine? He might at least have the decency to write.”

“Mr. Reisner’s offer to work with him at Samaria was a splendid opportunity,” I said. “And you know Ramses has never been a good correspondent.”

“Well, sir and madam, I don’t understand it either,” Gargery declared, serving plates of custard. “Egypt is where we always work. Why did Master Ramses go off to that heathenish place?”

“The adjective is singularly inappropriate, Gargery, since we are speaking of the Holy Land, sacred to three great world religions. And,” I added, “I cannot remember inviting your comments on the matter.”

Unperturbed by my rebuke, for he had heard similar remarks so often they had ceased to make an impression, Gargery declared, “I worry about him, madam, and that’s a fact. You know how he is.”