‘I think that is very probable,’ said Poirot.

‘She says that when she actually saw Jackie on the boat she felt terrible – and then, suddenly, it didn’t matter any more. We’re both agreed that we won’t try to dodge her any more. We’ll just meet her on her own ground and show her that this ridiculous stunt of hers doesn’t worry us a bit. It’s just damned bad form – that’s all. She thought she’d got us badly rattled – but now, well, we just aren’t rattled any more. That ought to show her.’

‘Yes,’ said Poirot thoughtfully.

‘So that’s splendid, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, yes, yes.’

Linnet came along the deck. She was dressed in a soft shade of apricot linen. She was smiling. She greeted Poirot with no particular enthusiasm, just gave him a cool nod and then drew her husband away.

Poirot realized with a momentary flicker of amusement that he had not made himself popular by his critical attitude. Linnet was used to unqualified admiration of all she was or did. Hercule Poirot had sinned noticeably against this creed.

Mrs Allerton, joining him, murmured:

‘What a difference in that girl! She looked worried and not very happy at Aswan. Today she looks so happy that one might almost be afraid she was fey.’

Before Poirot could respond as he meant, the party was called to order. The official dragoman took charge and the party was led ashore to visit Abu Simbel.

Poirot himself fell into step with Andrew Pennington.

‘It is your first visit to Egypt – yes?’ he asked.

‘Why, no, I was here in 1923. That is to say, I was in Cairo. I’ve never been this trip up the Nile before.’

‘You came over on the Carmanic, I believe – at least so Madame Doyle was telling me.’

Pennington shot a shrewd glance in his direction.

‘Why, yes, that is so,’ he admitted.

‘I wondered if you had happened to come across some friends of mine who were aboard – the Rushington Smiths.’

‘I can’t recall anyone of that name. The boat was full and we had bad weather. A lot of passengers hardly appeared, and in any case the voyage is so short one doesn’t get to know who is on board and who isn’t.’

‘Yes, that is very true. What a pleasant surprise your running into Madame Doyle and her husband. You had no idea they were married?’

‘No. Mrs Doyle had written me, but the letter was forwarded on and I only received it some days after our unexpected meeting in Cairo.’

‘You have known her for many years, I understand?’

‘Why, I should say I have, Monsieur Poirot. I’ve known Linnet Ridgeway since she was just a cute little thing so high-’ He made an illustrating gesture. ‘Her father and I were lifelong friends. A very remarkable man, Melhuish Ridgeway – and a very successful one.’

‘His daughter comes into a considerable fortune, I understand… Ah, pardon – perhaps it is not delicate what I say there.’

Andrew Pennington seemed slightly amused.

‘Oh, that’s pretty common knowledge. Yes, Linnet’s a wealthy woman.’

‘I suppose, though, that the recent slump is bound to affect any stocks, however sound they may be?’

Pennington took a moment or two to answer. He said at last:

‘That, of course, is true to a certain extent. The position is very difficult in these days.’

Poirot murmured: ‘I should imagine, however, that Madame Doyle has a keen business head.’

‘That is so. Yes, that is so. Linnet is a clever practical girl.’

They came to a halt. The guide proceeded to instruct them on the subject of the temple built by the great Rameses. The four colossi of Rameses himself, one pair on each side of the entrance, hewn out of the living rock, looked down on the straggling little party of tourists.

Signor Richetti, disdaining the remarks of the dragoman, was busy examining the reliefs of African and Syrian captives on the bases of the colossi on either side of the entrance.

When the party entered the temple, a sense of dimness and peace came over them. The still vividly coloured reliefs on some of the inner walls were pointed out, but the party tended to break up into groups.

Dr Bessner read sonorously in German from a Baedeker, pausing every now and then to translate for the benefit of Cornelia, who walked in a docile manner beside him. This was not to continue, however. Miss Van Schuyler, entering on the arm of the phlegmatic Miss Bowers, uttered a commanding, ‘Cornelia, come here,’ and the instruction had perforce to cease. Dr Bessner beamed after her vaguely through his thick lenses.