“This,” he said, “is where the dog is buried.”

Ilia said: “I feel dreamier than in a dream and more awake than waking. I can’t explain it.”

Liat said: “It’s the light. That’s all.”

And Yael: “Who’s thirsty? Let’s go down to the water.”

Less than a month after the conclusion of this trip Fima went to Yavne’el to look for the third girl. He discovered that Yael Levin was a graduate of the aeronautical engineering department of Haifa Technion and worked in a top-secret air force installation in the hills west of Jerusalem. After a few meetings he found that her presence made him feel restful, while his presence amused her in her placid way. When he asked her, hesitantly, whether she thought they were suited to each other, she replied, “I quite like the way you talk.” He thought this indicated a hint of affection. Which he treasured. Next he sought out Liat Sirkin and sat with her for half an hour in a little seaside café, simply to make certain he had not made her pregnant. But afterward he allowed himself to sleep with her again in a cheap hotel in Bat Yam, so he wasn’t certain anymore. In May he invited all three girls to Jerusalem to meet his father. The old man charmed Ilia with his old-style courtesy, entertained Liat with anecdotes and fables with morals, but he preferred Yael, who showed, he thought, “signs of depth.” Fima agreed with him, although he was not entirely sure he understood what the signs were. He continued to go out with her, until one day she said to him: “Look at your shirt, half inside your trousers and half outside. Wait. I’ll fix it for you.”