SILK WICKEDNESS 21

‘Then I absolutely must have some for Christmas.* She scooped a couple of tablespoons into her palm. ‘Can you ask him how much?*

After a short exchange with the vendor Guy said, ‘He says it*s baksheesh. A present. Because you*re a guest.*

‘But isn’t it terribly expensive?*

‘Not really. They usually sell it by the kilo.*

‘But I must give him something! 1*11 feel really bad otherwise!*

‘You might offend him.*

‘Then 1*11 buy something else. Half a kilo of black peppercorns. Those silly little tubs you get in the supermarket don’t last five minutes and I bet these are much fresher.*

They wandered on, pausing to admire everything from camel sticks to battery operated toys to copper pots. The narrow alleys were crowded and bustling, plaintive Arabic song echoing from scores of radios.

More than once, Guy shot an exasperated glance over his shoulder. ‘Anoushka, keep up!* Despite his efforts to amuse her, she was dragging behind, refusing to take an interest in anything.

‘I do see what you me