"He has been called by the agha—whose life God will lengthen!—and is very busy."
"Has he no time, then, to write a letter for me? Do you know of any one who can compose a good letter?"
"Indeed," replied Karim, who wanted to show what he knew, "the mirza, when I help him, says that my writing is second only to his. If my letter does not please you, come again when the mirza is not busy. What is your need?"
"Yesterday," said the man, "a merchant sent me some splendid pomegranates. He has made my face to shine, and I wish to thank him. I wish also to beg him to send me some more."
Karim opened the pen case, and took out a reed pen, which he sharpened and smoothed. Then he took a roll of paper, trimmed it with the scissors, and rubbed its edges with saffron. Putting the paper on his knee as he sat on the floor he began to write, pushing the pen across the paper from right to left.
"PUTTING THE PAPER ON HIS KNEE AS HE SAT ON THE FLOOR."
When he was through he read the letter to the man.
"That is just the kind of letter I want," he said.
"Very well," said Karim, "I shall seal it. Where is your seal?"