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  The wife arrived first. She came sailing into the room looking more than ever like the dazzling Queen Semiramis of the Nile, and the first thing I noticed about her was the pale-green chiffon scarf knotted casually round her neck! Casually but carefully! So carefully that no part of the skin of the neck was visible. The woman went straight over to her husband and kissed him on the cheek. 'Good morning, my darling,' she said.

  You cunning beautiful bitch, I thought.

  'Good morning, Mr Cornelius,' she said gaily, coming over to sit in the chair opposite mine. 'Did you have a good night? I do hope you had everything you wanted.'

  Never in my life have I seen such a sparkle in a woman's eyes as I saw in hers that morning, nor such a glow of pleasure in a woman's face.

  'I had a very good night indeed, thank you.' I answered, showing her that I knew.

  She smiled and lit a cigarette. I glanced over at Mr Aziz, who was still writing away busily at the desk with his back to us. He wasn't paying the slightest attention to his wife or to me. He was, I thought, exactly like all the other poor cuckolds that I had ever created. Not one of them would believe that it could happen to him, not right under his own nose.

  'Good morning, everybody!' cried the daughter, sweeping into the room. 'Good morning, Daddy! Good morning, Mummy!' She gave them each a kiss. 'Good morning, Mr Cornelius!' She was wearing a pair of pink slacks and a rust-coloured blouse, and I'll be damned if she didn't also have a scarf tied carelessly but carefully round her neck! A chiffon scarf!

  'Did you have a decent night?' she asked, perching herself like a young bride on the arm of my chair, arranging herself in such a way that one of her thighs rested against my forearm. I leaned back and looked at her closely. She looked back at me and winked. She actually winked! Her face was glowing and sparkling every bit as much as her mother's, and if anything, she seemed even more pleased with herself than the older woman.

  I felt pretty confused. Only one of them had a bite mark to conceal, yet both of them had covered their necks with scarves. I conceded that this might be a coincidence, but on the face of it, it looked much more like a conspiracy to me. It looked as though they were both working closely together to keep me from discovering the truth. But what an extraordinarily screwy business! And what was the purpose of it all? And in what other peculiar ways, might I ask, did they plot and plan together among themselves? Had they drawn lots or something the night before? Or did they simply take it in turns with visitors? I must come back again, I told myself, for another visit as soon as possible just to see what happens the next time. In fact, I might motor down specially from Jerusalem in a day or two. It would be easy, I reckoned, to get myself invited again.

  'Are you ready, Mr Cornelius?' Mr Aziz said, rising from his desk.

  'Quite ready,' I answered.

  The ladies, sleek and smiling, led the way outside to where the big green Rolls-Royce was waiting. I kissed their hands and murmured a million thanks to each of them. Then I got into the front seat beside my host, and we drove off. The mother and daughter waved. I lowered my window and waved back. Then we were out of the garden and into the desert, following the stony yellow track as it skirted the base of Mount Maghara, with the telegraph poles marching along beside us.

  During the journey, my host and I conversed pleasantly about this and that. I was at pains to be as agreeable as possible because my one object now was to get myself invited to stay at the house again. If I didn't succeed in getting him to ask me, then I should have to ask him. I would do it at the last moment. 'Good-bye, my dear friend,' I would say, gripping him warmly by the throat. 'May I have the pleasure of dropping in to see you again if I happen to be passing this way?' And of course he would say yes.

  'Did you think I exaggerated when I told you my daughter was beautiful?' he asked me.

  'You understated it,' I said. 'She's a raving beauty. I do congratulate you. But your wife is no less lovely. In fact, between the two of them they almost swept me off my feet,' I added, laughing.

  'I noticed that,' he said, laughing with me. 'They're a couple of very naughty girls. They do so love to flirt with other men. But why should I mind? There's no harm in flirting.'

  'None whatsoever,' I said.

  'I think it's gay and fun.'

  'It's charming,' I said.

  In less than half an hour we had reached the main Ismailia-Jerusalem road. Mr Aziz turned the Rolls on to the black tarmac strip and headed for the filling-station at seventy miles an hour. In a few minutes we would be there. So now I tried moving a little closer to the subject of another visit, fishing gently for an invitation. 'I can't get over your house.' I said. 'I think it's simply wonderful.'

  'It is nice, isn't it?'

  'I suppose you're bound to get pretty lonely out there, on and off, just the three of you together?'

  'It's no worse than anywhere else,' he said. 'People get lonely wherever they are. A desert, or a city - it doesn't make much difference, really. But we do have visitors, you know. You'd be surprised at the number of people who drop in from time to time. Like you, for instance. It was a great pleasure having you with us, my dear fellow.'

  'I shall never forget it,' I said. 'It is a rare thing to find kindness and hospitality of that order nowadays.'

  I waited for him to tell me that I must come again, but he didn't. A little silence sprang up between us, a slightly uneasy little silence. To bridge it. I said, 'I think yours is the most thoughtful paternal gesture I've ever heard of in my life.'

  'Mine?'

  'Yes. Building a house right out there in the back of beyond and living in it just for your daughter's sake, to protect her. I think it's remarkable.'

  I saw him smile, but he kept his eyes on the road and said nothing. The filling-station and the group of huts were now in sight about a mile ahead of us. The sun was high and it was getting hot inside the car.

  'Not many fathers would put themselves out to that extent,' I went on.

  Again he smiled, but somewhat bashfully this time, I thought. And then he said, 'I don't deserve quite as much credit as you like to give me, really I don't. To be absolutely honest with you, that pretty daughter of mine isn't the only reason for my living in such splendid isolation.'

  'I know that.'

  'You do?'

  'You told me. You said the other reason was the desert. You loved it, you said, as a sailor loves the sea.'

  'So I did. And it's quite true. But there's still a third reason.'

  'Oh, and what is that?'

  He didn't answer me. He sat quite still with his hands on the wheel and his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

  'I'm sorry,' I said. 'I shouldn't have asked the question. It's none of my business.'

  'No, no, that's quite all right,' he said. 'Don't apologize.'

  I stared out of the window at the desert. 'I think it's hotter than yesterday,' I said. 'It must be well over a hundred already.'

  'Yes.'

  I saw him shifting a little in his seat, as though trying to get comfortable, and then he said, 'I don't really see why I shouldn't tell you the truth about that house. You don't strike me as being a gossip.'

  'Certainly not,' I said.

  We were close to the filling-station now, and he had slowed the car down almost to walking-speed to give himself time to say what he had to say. I could see the two Arabs standing beside my Lagonda, watching us.

  'That daughter,' he said at length, 'the one you met - she isn't the only daughter I have.'

  'Oh, really?'

  'I've got another who is five years older than she.'

  'And just as beautiful, no doubt,' I said. 'Where does she live? In Beirut?'

  'No, she's in the house.'

  'In which house? Not the one we've just left?'

  'Yes.'

  'But I never saw her!'

  'Well,' he said, turning suddenly to watch my face, 'maybe not.'

  'But why?'

  'She has leprosy.'

  I jumped.