The silver casket

One day, when adventuring on my own in the bazaar area, I spied a little silver casket. I asked the man how much. He informed me that it was not for sale. I persisted. “Ah, 25 pounds to the Memsahib.” And thus the bargaining began. For two days, I sat cross legged in from of him, on the dirty earth floor, haggling and drinking coffee, and finally walked away with it for 3 pounds, which even in those days was a fortune.

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