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the war in 1942, she joined the U.S. Army Medical Corps. She and my father met
up in a field hospital behind the lines - and the rest, as they say, is history."
Peregrine closed the book and carefully returned it to its place on the shelf. "I
gather she's still alive?"
"Oh, quite," Adam returned with a laugh. "At the moment she's in America,
supervising the running of her clinic in New Hampshire. That was a bone of
contention while my father was alive, since he thought she should be here all the
time, attending to her duties as lady of the manor. Since his death, however,
that's where she spends most of her time. She maintains that the work keeps her
young."
He might have said more, but at that moment Humphrey's discreet knock
heralded the arrival of tea and scones. As Peregrine followed Adam back to the
fireside, he reflected that a capacity for remarkable achievements seemed to run
in the Sinclair family.
They passed the evening quietly at Strathmourne. A simple but excellent dinner
was followed by brandy in the now-familiar environs of the library.
"I suggest we make an early evening of it," Adam said. "I think you'll agree that
last night was - ah - something less than restful, and tomorrow, after I make my
rounds down at Jordanburn, I've got to drive up to Gleneagles for the afternoon.
It's the quarterly meeting of the Royal Scottish Preservation Trust, and I'm
speaking. Perhaps you'd like to come along."
"Well, I - "
"It's no intrusion, if that's what you're thinking," Adam said with a smile. "I think
you'd enjoy it - and it would give me the chance to present you to some good
friends of mine who are members of the Trust - friends who might be the source
of future commissions," he added, raising his glass in smiling salute, "if the
prospect of my company for the day and a bunch of probably boring lectures
aren't sufficient enticements."
Warmed through by the brandy and the glow of their growing camaraderie,
Peregrine found himself agreeing. Only much later, after he had retired to his
room for the night and was drifting off to sleep, did it occur to him that this was
the first social engagement in months that he had allowed himself to accept. Nor
had he thought even once about the despair that had driven him here to
Strathmourne not twenty-four hours before.
The next day, Monday, dawned fair and fine. After an early breakfast, Adam left
Peregrine on his own for a few hours while he zipped into Edinburgh to see
patients, returning just after eleven to pick him up.
"Traffic was lighter than I expected," Adam said, as he leaned across to open the
passenger door of the Jaguar for Peregrine. "We may even have time for a proper
lunch. I told some friends we'd try to join them, if we got there before one."
They arrived at the Gleneagles Hotel with plenty of time to spare. Adam's friends
turned out to be the Duke of Glendearn, who was president and principal patron
of the Trust, and several other titled notables, several of whom were acquainted
with Peregrine's work. The warmth of their reception did much to dispel
Peregrine's initial shyness, and by the time lunch was finished, he was well on the
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r r
way to finding himself at home.
Peregrine glanced at the program leaflet Adam handed him as they went into the
lecture room. The morning's program, he found, had included the society's
business meeting and several addresses on various aspects of Scottish history.
The events scheduled for the afternoon included several more speeches and a
series of panel discussions - none of which turned out to be at all boring, so far as
Peregrine was concerned.
Adam's own contribution, last on the agenda, was a lecture on the subject he
termed "Intuitive Archaeology." Interestingly enough, to Peregrine's way of
thinking, no one seemed inclined to leave early. In fact, people who had been
wandering in and out during the afternoon made a point to come back in as the
duke was introducing Adam. Evidently Sir Adam Sinclair was one of their more
popular speakers.
"This is intended to be an exercise in creative speculation," Adam warned his
listeners, with a smile that compelled their instant attention. "What I am
proposing is that, for the next fifty minutes, we waive all consideration of
empirical methodology, in order to examine the intuition as a prime tool for
archaeological investigation."
"Intuition," he repeated, looking around the room. "It's something that many
people think women have more of than men do." That comment brought a
chuckle. "People working in the so-called 'hard sciences' tend to mistrust it,
because it can't be 'proven' by scientific logic. People working in the 'soft' sciences
- and psychiatry is one of them - know that intuition can be a very valuable tool,
especially when confirmed by results. Perhaps, then, the line between logic and
intuition is not as hard and fast as the hard scientists would have us believe."
As Adam turned to the next page in his notes, Peregrine settled down contentedly
to take it all in. This was turning out to be every bit as interesting as he had hoped
it might be.
"Actually, many hard scientists do use intuition," Adam went on, "though most of
them would squirm, if forced to admit it. After all, it isn't 'logical.' However, it is
no secret that some researchers are infinitely more adept than others at arriving [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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