She smiled a little. Thank you, nurse. Then she sat down on the bed and, rather to my surprise, began to cross-question me rather closely.
I say rather to my surprise because, from the moment I set eyes on her, I felt sure that Mrs Leidner was a lady.
And a lady, in my experience, very seldom displays curiosity about ones private affairs.
But Mrs Leidner seemed anxious to know everything there was to know about me.
Where Id trained and how long ago.
What had brought me out to the East.
How it had come about that Dr Reilly had recommended me.
She even asked me if I had ever been in America or had any relations in America.
One or two other questions she asked me that seemed quite purposeless at the time, but of which I saw the significance later.
Then, suddenly, her manner changed.
She smiled a warm sunny smile and she said, very sweetly, that she was very glad I had come and that she was sure I was going to be a comfort to her.
She got up from the bed and said: Would you like to come up to the roof and see the sunset?
Its usually very lovely about this time.
I agreed willingly.
As we went out of the room she asked: Were there many other people on the train from Baghdad?
Any men?
I said that I hadnt noticed anybody in particular. There had been two Frenchmen in the restaurant-car the night before. And a party of three men whom I gathered from their conversation had to do with the Pipeline.
She nodded and a faint sound escaped her.
It sounded like a small sigh of relief.
We went up to the roof together.
Mrs Mercado was there, sitting on the parapet, and Dr Leidner was bending over looking at a lot of stones and broken pottery that were laid in rows.
There were big things he called querns, and pestles and celts and stone axes, and more broken bits of pottery with queer patterns on them than Ive ever seen all at once.
Come over here, called out Mrs Mercado.
Isnt it too too beautiful?
It certainly was a beautiful sunset. Hassanieh in the distance looked quite fairy-like with the setting sun behind it, and the River Tigris flowing between its wide banks looked like a dream river rather than a real one.
Isnt it lovely, Eric? said Mrs Leidner.
The doctor looked up with abstracted eyes, murmured, Lovely, lovely, perfunctorily and went on sorting potsherds.
Mrs Leidner smiled and said: Archaeologists only look at what lies beneath their feet.
The sky and the heavens dont exist for them.
Mrs Mercado giggled.
Oh, theyre very queer people youll soon find that out, nurse, she said.
She paused and then added: We are all so glad youve come.
Weve been so very worried about dear Mrs Leidner, havent we, Louise?
Have you? Her voice was not encouraging.
Oh, yes.
She really has been very bad, nurse.
All sorts of alarms and excursions. You know when anybody says to me of someone, Its just nerves, I always say: but what could be worse?
Nerves are the core and centre of ones being, arent they?
Puss, puss, I thought to myself.
Mrs Leidner said dryly: Well, you neednt be worried about me any more, Marie.
Nurse is going to look after me.
Certainly I am, I said cheerfully.
Im sure that will make all the difference, said Mrs Mercado.
Weve all felt that she ought to see a doctor or do something.
Her nerves have really been all to pieces, havent they, Louise dear?
So much so that I seem to have got on your nerves with them, said Mrs Leidner. Shall we talk about something more interesting than my wretched ailments?
I understood then that Mrs Leidner was the sort of woman who could easily make enemies.
There was a cool rudeness in her tone (not that I blamed her for it) which brought a flush to Mrs Mercados rather sallow cheeks.
She stammered out something, but Mrs Leidner had risen and had joined her husband at the other end of the roof.
I doubt if he heard her coming till she laid her hand on his shoulder, then he looked up quickly.