BOOK 4

'I see.' Amy nodded, spreading pate. 'So modern carvers try to make their work seem old.'

'After they've carved them out of bits of packing crates,' he confirmed, 'they stain them and drill worm-holes.'

'And they succeed? I mean, the things end up seeming old?'

Paul nodded, his mouth full. 'Tourists and dealers buy them as antiques,' he explained when he had swallowed, 'take them back to Europe or America, and sell them for a huge profit.'

'Having bought them for peanuts?'

'Just about. And for those peanuts, all that marvellous talent -' he nodded down at the figure by Amy's plate - 'gets pinned down copying the past, instead of finding its own way.'

Amy stared at him in admiration. What a wonderful way he had found to spend his father's money. Not only was he providing employment in a poor country - she was sure Mali must be poor - he was also helping craftsmen. No, she corrected herself, he was helping artists find the best way of using their talents.

'So in Les Gemaux,' she began,