‘Vicky! Grüss Gott, good morning, hello! I am so glad to see you!’

‘What are you doing here, Schmidt?’ I inquired. My voice was very calm.

‘It was Fate, no less. I will tell you all about it later.’ Schmidt glanced at Mary and then back at me. His grin faded and he blinked rapidly. John must have told him. He’d have had to, in order to forestall any embarrassing references to former acquaintanceships. I wished to God I knew what other confidences had passed between the two.

I introduced Mary. Schmidt didn’t say much; he was very gallant with her, though, studying her pretty face intently. They were almost the same height.

She excused herself, saying that her husband was waiting for her. He hadn’t waited; he was already some distance ahead. She hurried after him.

‘My poor dear Vicky,’ Schmidt said gently. He took off his sunglasses and wiped his eyes. ‘Do not allow evil to enter your heart, my child.’

‘What the hell are you talking about, Schmidt?’

‘You are not in despair?’ Schmidt peered up into my face from under the brim of his hat. ‘Well. Perhaps you are not. A woman with so many lovers as you – ’

‘Shut up, Schmidt,’ I said.

Schmidt paid no attention; he’d heard me say that so often, the words just washed past his ears. ‘And it is not to be expected that all your lovers would remain faithful when you do nothing to encourage them and are, in fact, often very rude to them. Nein, nein, do not deny it, I have seen it myself. I only hope that Sir John did not marry this poor child on the rebounce, for that would not be fair to her. She seems a charming young lady.’

‘Schmidt . . .’ He waited expectantly; but I couldn’t think what to say. It was probably safer to say nothing at all until I had had a chance to find out what pack of lies John had told Schmidt. So I finished lamely, ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘This is not, perhaps, the best place for an intimate conversation,’ Schmidt agreed. Feisal was bearing down – or up – on us, shepherding the last and slowest of the group – a very elderly English lady whose physical strength didn’t equal her zest for living.

Gallant as always, Schmidt whipped off his pith helmet and bowed from the approximate region of the waist. That part of him doesn’t bend easily. I introduced them and Feisal nodded. ‘Yes, Herr Doktor Schmidt; we were told you would be joining us here. Willkommen.’

‘But how well you speak German,’ Schmidt exclaimed. ‘You are our guide, my friend? Excellent! I have many questions. You can tell me – ’

‘It would be better, Dr Schmidt, if you waited until we reach the tombs. The others are already far ahead.’

‘My fault, I’m afraid,’ Mrs Blessington (she had told me to call her Anna, but I couldn’t manage it yet) said cheerfully. ‘You young things are most kind to put up with my infirmities.’