Crawford wound it up. "That's the position we're in. That's what we're doing. Giving them things they need, in spite of the fact they don't want them."
"But why?"
He said, "You know the answer to that as well as I do. It's like giving medical care to Typhoid Mary, in spite of the fact that she didn't want it and didn't believe such things as typhoid microbes existed. We had to protect the community against her. In the world today, such backward areas as Africa are potential volcanoes. We've got to deal with them before they erupt."
The waiter came with the bill and Homer took it.
Isobel said, "Let's go Dutch on that."
He grinned at her. "Consider it a donation to the AFAA."
Out on the street again, they walked slowly in the direction of the old administration buildings where both had left their means of transportation.
Isobel, who was frowning thoughtfully, evidently over the things that had been said, said, "Let's go this way. I'd like to see the old Great Mosque, in the Dyingerey Ber section of town. It's always fascinated me."
Crawford said, looking at her and appreciating her attractiveness, all over again, "You know Timbuktu quite well, don't you?"
"I've just finished a job down in Kabara, and it's only a few miles away."