The corners of Ramses’s mouth turned up in an answering smile. It gave warmth to a countenance that was normally impassive and difficult to read. His coloring was that of the Egyptians among whom he had spent much of his life—light brown skin and dark eyes, and exuberant black hair with a tendency to curl that Ramses had fought more or less unsuccessfully since childhood. His features were not unpleasing, though his nose was too prominent and his jawline too angular to be deemed handsome. Oddly enough, a surprising number of young ladies found him prepossessing. There were usually a few hanging about him, flapping their eyelashes and cooing nonsense. I will say for Ramses that he did not encourage them. At least I don’t think he did. Surely not . . .

I abandoned this train of thought. “Is David with you?” I asked. He and Ramses are closer than most brothers; Lia and Nefret consider themselves to be sisters and best friends. Such familial affection is a blessing for which I have offered gratitude in many prayers.

“He is outside Cairo, visiting his relatives, but I expect him tonight or tomorrow.”

Fatima set an overflowing plate of eggs and toast in front of him. “Where is Nefret?” Ramses asked.

“Here,” she announced from the doorway. “Good morning, Aunt Amelia and Professor. Ramses, it’s good to see you again.”

“And you, too.” He rose and gave her what I perceived to be a perfunctory hug. He held her chair for her, and she took her place at the table.

“Eat,” Fatima urged. “You are too thin, Ramses.”

When Ramses began to eat, Nefret said, “What’s wrong with your arm?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Let me see.”

Emerson, finishing his second cup of coffee, was now capable of taking notice of the world around him. He cleared his throat. “You may as well comply. She’ll keep after you until you do.”

With an audible sigh Ramses put down his fork and rolled up his sleeve. Someone, probably David, had wound cloth of questionable cleanliness around a long slash on Ramses’s right forearm.

“It needs to be disinfected and rebandaged,” Nefret said sternly.

“Can it not wait until after breakfast? I’m hungry.”

“Oh, I suppose so. You’ve already contaminated the wound. When did this happen?”

“A few days ago,” Ramses said. “The freighter David and I took from Palestine encountered nasty weather the entire journey, and both of us felt under the weather when we docked at Alexandria. We stayed in a hotel for two nights and then took the train to Cairo. As I mentioned, David went to his cousins’ village. I had some business to attend to, which included”—he glanced at Emerson—“finding out where you were.”

“Which you did,” Emerson responded blandly as he allowed Fatima to refill his coffee cup. “You would be hard pressed to find anyone in Cairo who doesn’t know where I am at any given time.”