“I think,” he said, “that we will take this car.”
Mr. Kuvetli looked worried. “There is no other way? It is very expensive.”
“That’s all right. I’ll pay.”
“But it is you who do favour to me. I must pay.”
“Oh, I should have taken a car in any case. Five hundred drachmes is not really expensive.”
Mr. Kuvetli’s eyes opened very wide. “Five hundred? But that is for four persons. We are two.”
Graham laughed. “I doubt if the driver will look at it that way. I don’t suppose it costs him any less to take two instead of four.”
Mr. Kuvetli looked apologetic. “I have little Greek. You will permit me to ask him?”
“Of course. Go ahead.”
The driver, a predatory looking man wearing a suit several sizes too small for him and highly polished tan shoes without socks, had leapt out at their approach and was holding the door open. Now he began to shout. “Allez! Allez! Allez!” he exhorted them; “très bon marché. Cinque-cento, solamente.”