As sure as anything, my dear, you are the person for my nephew. Somebody has got to take him on, anyhow, that’s plain.’ ‘He’s only twenty-four,’ considers Lise. ‘Much too young. They are descending a steep path leading from the ruins. Steps have been roughly cut out of the earthy track, outlined only by slats of wood which are laid at the edge of each step. Lise holds Mrs Fiedke’s arm and helps her down one by one. ‘How do you know his age?’ says Mrs Fiedke. ‘Well, didn’t you tell me, twenty-four?’ Lise says. ‘Yes, but I haven’t seen him for quite a time you know. He’s been away. ‘Maybe he’s even younger. Take care, go slowly.’ ‘Or it could be the other way. People age when they’ve had unpleasant experiences over the years. It just came to me while we were looking at those very interesting pavements in that ancient temple up there, that poor Richard may be the very man that you’re looking for.’ ‘Well, it’s your idea,’ says Lise, ‘not mine.
