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grimaced.
    Edith Phillips, who obviously thought Paul Louvois pompous, brought things down to earth. “Monsieur Louvois says he buys and sells art.”
    Monsieur Louvois appeared irritated at the image of himself buying and selling. He explained to Graham, “I make little discoveries for museums and galleries.”
    â€œAh, here is our schoolmaster,” Graham said, “come to be sure his charges are not up to some mischief.”
    Hakki stood over us, counting. “Our party is all present. I am pleased to see you are eating together. Remember tomorrow morning, nine o’clock exactly. It might be best if you all took to your beds early this evening.”
    After Hakki left us, we felt like newly introduced children admonished by our parents to “get along nicely.”
    Miss Phillips said, “Well, we must make the best of this. For myself, I can get on with anyone—not that I mean to imply any of you are going to be a problem, but we must allow for the fact that we each have our own ways. You all must call me Edith. We are going to be much together, and we might as well be as comfortable with one another as possible. I am here to hunt plants for the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew.”
    Father was amused by Edith. “I’m sure you’ll have us all plucking daisies for you. As to why we are here, I think I can speak for my daughter as well as myself. We are here for nothing more than a little diversion, a distraction from the tedious profession of a solicitor, for my part”—Father avoided Graham’s eye—“and an escape from the schoolroom for my daughter.”
    I had been relieved to have my father answer for me until I heard him describe me in front of Graham as a schoolgirl. My anger grew so hot that I hardly heard Monsieur Louvois speak of his search for the art of ancient worlds. When it was Graham’s turn, he said, “I am here to do some scholarly investigation on the rather obscure tribe called the Druze.” This time it was Graham who would notlook at Father. The room was full of secrets.
    Monsieur Louvois scowled at the mention of the Druzes. “Please do not forget to ask the Maronite Christians—those still alive because they were rescued by the French—how they like the Druzes who hunted them down not that many years ago and butchered them by the thousands.”
    â€œThe French may have protected the Maronites, but it was the French who incited the Druzes.” Graham had picked up a fork and accompanied his words with sharp thrusts at the tablecloth.
    Paul Louvois’s mood changed almost at once. “For myself,” he said, “I am happy to assign such morbid investigations to someone else. Life is too short for assigning blame.”
    â€œQuite right,” Father agreed. “We must leave justice to those who govern.”
    â€œThat would be the last place I would look for justice,” Graham said.
    Father threw down his napkin. “I sincerely hope that our tour will not disintegrate into a series of dreary confrontations on matters over which we have little agreement, no influence, and from what I’ve been hearing, not a great deal of knowledge.”
    â€œI second that,” Edith said. “I suspect we are all weary from our journey, and we ought to follow Hakki’s very good advice and take to our beds.”
    In bed that night I was relieved not to be involved in Father and Graham’s squabbles and hoped that before the trip was over, I would not have to choose sides.

VII
DAMASCUS
    T HE NEXT MORNING , when I stopped at Father’s room on the way to breakfast, he announced, “I have no intention of subjecting myself to a ‘tour’ of a city I know perfectly well. I mean to visit an old acquaintance of mine.”
    Left to myself, breathless with excitement at the prospect of seeing the fabled Damascus, I set off to join the others. In the hotel lobby Edith was