An archaeologist is the best husband a woman can have; the older she gets the more interested he is in her.

Agatha Christie’s quip is commonly linked to her second marriage to the archaeologist Sir Max Mallowan (married 1930), whom she met during her travels in the Middle East. Christie spent many seasons accompanying Mallowan on excavations in Iraq and Syria, experiences she later described in her memoir. The joke plays on the public image of archaeology as a profession devoted to studying and valuing the past—an affectionate, self-aware way of reframing age and marriage. It also reflects Christie’s characteristic wit and her tendency to turn personal experience into a broadly relatable epigram.

The line hinges on a playful reversal of a common anxiety: that romantic interest fades as a woman ages. By choosing an archaeologist—someone professionally trained to prize what is old—the speaker imagines a partner whose fascination increases with time rather than diminishes. Beneath the humor is a critique of ageism and the social pressure placed on women to remain youthful to be valued. Christie’s phrasing also suggests a model of companionship grounded in curiosity and respect for accumulated history—implying that a person’s “layers” and experience can make them more, not less, compelling.