"Yes, I know. How much?"
"It is made at thirty-five, twenty, fifteen rupees."
"Yes. But how much is this?"
Then follows a long discussion in Hindi with the bystanders, who always escort a foreigner in a mob, ending in the question—
"Would you be willing to pay thirty-five rupees?"
"No."
"Then twenty-eight?"
And the figures go down after long discussions, till at last the question as to whether I know the worth of pashmina begins all over again—endless.
This morning, at Peshawur, down come the police on my houseboat—three of them—and their leader explains matters. Abibulla interprets.