- and one can quite understand why Dr. Leidner 'fell for her' - to use a slang term. But I can't help feeling she's out of place here. She - it unsettles things.”
So Miss Johnson agreed with Mrs. Kelsey that it was Mrs. Leidner who was responsible for the strained atmosphere. But then where did Mrs. Leidner's own nervous fears come in?
“It unsettles him,” said Miss Johnson earnestly. “Of course, I'm - well, I'm like a faithful but jealous old dog. I don't like to see him so worn out and worried. His whole mind ought to be on the work - not taken up with his wife and her silly fears! If she's nervous of coming to out-of-the-way places, she ought to have stayed in America. I've no patience with people who come to a place and then do nothing but grouse about it!”
And then, a little fearful of having said more than she meant to say, she went on:
“Of course I admire her very much. She's a lovely woman and she's got great charm of manner when she chooses.”
And there the subject dropped.
I thought to myself that it was always the same way - wherever women are cooped up together, there's bound to be jealousy. Miss Johnson clearly didn't like her chief's wife (that was perhaps natural) and unless I was much mistaken Mrs. Mercado fairly hated her.
Another person who didn't like Mrs. Leidner was Sheila Reilly. She came out once or twice to the dig, once in a car and twice with some young man on a horse - on two horses I mean, of course. It was at the back of my mind that she had a weakness for the silent young American, Emmott. When he was on duty at the dig she used to stay talking to him, and I thought, too, that he admired her.
One day, rather injudiciously, I thought, Mrs. Leidner commented upon it at lunch.
“The Reilly girl is still hunting David down,” she said with a little laugh. “Poor David, she chases you up on the dig even! How foolish girls are!”
Mr. Emmott didn't answer, but under his tan his face got rather red. He raised his eyes and looked right into hers with a very curious expression - a straight, steady glance with something of a challenge in it.
She smiled very faintly and looked away.
I heard Father Lavigny murmur something, but when I said “Pardon?” he merely shook his head and did not repeat his remark.
That afternoon Mr. Coleman said to me:
“Matter of fact I didn't like Mrs. L. any too much at first. She used to jump down my throat every time I opened my mouth. But I've begun to understand her better now. She's one of the kindest women I've ever met. You find yourself telling her all the foolish scrapes you ever got into before you know where you are. She's got her knife into Sheila Reilly, I know, but then Sheila's been damned rude to her once or twice. That's the worst of Sheila - she's got no manners. And a temper like the devil!”
That I could well believe. Dr. Reilly spoilt her.
“Of course she's bound to get a bit full of herself, being the only young woman in the place. But that doesn't excuse her talking to Mrs. Leidner as though Mrs. Leidner were her great-aunt. Mrs. L's not exactly a chicken, but she's a damned good-looking woman. Rather like those fairy women who come out of marshes with lights and lure you away.” He added bitterly, “You wouldn't find Sheila luring anyone. All she does is to tick a fellow off.”
I only remember two other incidents of any kind of significance.
One was when I went to the laboratory to fetch some acetone to get the stickiness off my fingers from mending the pottery. Mr. Mercado was sitting in a corner, his head was laid down on his arms and I fancied he was asleep. I took the bottle I wanted and went off with it.
That evening, to my great surprise, Mrs. Mercado tackled me.
“Did you take a bottle of acetone from the lab?”
“Yes,” I said. “I did.”
“You know perfectly well that there's a small bottle always kept in the antika-room.”
She spoke quite angrily.
“Is there? I didn't know.”
“I think you
So Miss Johnson agreed with Mrs. Kelsey that it was Mrs. Leidner who was responsible for the strained atmosphere. But then where did Mrs. Leidner's own nervous fears come in?
“It unsettles him,” said Miss Johnson earnestly. “Of course, I'm - well, I'm like a faithful but jealous old dog. I don't like to see him so worn out and worried. His whole mind ought to be on the work - not taken up with his wife and her silly fears! If she's nervous of coming to out-of-the-way places, she ought to have stayed in America. I've no patience with people who come to a place and then do nothing but grouse about it!”
And then, a little fearful of having said more than she meant to say, she went on:
“Of course I admire her very much. She's a lovely woman and she's got great charm of manner when she chooses.”
And there the subject dropped.
I thought to myself that it was always the same way - wherever women are cooped up together, there's bound to be jealousy. Miss Johnson clearly didn't like her chief's wife (that was perhaps natural) and unless I was much mistaken Mrs. Mercado fairly hated her.
Another person who didn't like Mrs. Leidner was Sheila Reilly. She came out once or twice to the dig, once in a car and twice with some young man on a horse - on two horses I mean, of course. It was at the back of my mind that she had a weakness for the silent young American, Emmott. When he was on duty at the dig she used to stay talking to him, and I thought, too, that he admired her.
One day, rather injudiciously, I thought, Mrs. Leidner commented upon it at lunch.
“The Reilly girl is still hunting David down,” she said with a little laugh. “Poor David, she chases you up on the dig even! How foolish girls are!”
Mr. Emmott didn't answer, but under his tan his face got rather red. He raised his eyes and looked right into hers with a very curious expression - a straight, steady glance with something of a challenge in it.
She smiled very faintly and looked away.
I heard Father Lavigny murmur something, but when I said “Pardon?” he merely shook his head and did not repeat his remark.
That afternoon Mr. Coleman said to me:
“Matter of fact I didn't like Mrs. L. any too much at first. She used to jump down my throat every time I opened my mouth. But I've begun to understand her better now. She's one of the kindest women I've ever met. You find yourself telling her all the foolish scrapes you ever got into before you know where you are. She's got her knife into Sheila Reilly, I know, but then Sheila's been damned rude to her once or twice. That's the worst of Sheila - she's got no manners. And a temper like the devil!”
That I could well believe. Dr. Reilly spoilt her.
“Of course she's bound to get a bit full of herself, being the only young woman in the place. But that doesn't excuse her talking to Mrs. Leidner as though Mrs. Leidner were her great-aunt. Mrs. L's not exactly a chicken, but she's a damned good-looking woman. Rather like those fairy women who come out of marshes with lights and lure you away.” He added bitterly, “You wouldn't find Sheila luring anyone. All she does is to tick a fellow off.”
I only remember two other incidents of any kind of significance.
One was when I went to the laboratory to fetch some acetone to get the stickiness off my fingers from mending the pottery. Mr. Mercado was sitting in a corner, his head was laid down on his arms and I fancied he was asleep. I took the bottle I wanted and went off with it.
That evening, to my great surprise, Mrs. Mercado tackled me.
“Did you take a bottle of acetone from the lab?”
“Yes,” I said. “I did.”
“You know perfectly well that there's a small bottle always kept in the antika-room.”
She spoke quite angrily.
“Is there? I didn't know.”
“I think you
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