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either he didn't understand at all or else he thought he understood and was proved wrong, usually with the maximum possible humiliation. For the first time in his life, he was made painfully aware of the monstrous scope of his ignorance of the world. Everything had to be explained to him: the price of a ton of wheat, and the relation it bore to the price of a loaf of bread; how long it took a ship to sail from the City to the Periplus, and how much shipping cost per mile and per day; what ordinary people did for a living and how much money they had to spend and what they tended to spend it on; how the government worked, in theory and in practice; the difference between one-week credit, three-month credit, a mortgage and a debenture; the advantages and drawbacks of the five main types of joint-venture company; the basic elements of commercial law, and why going to law was almost always a waste of time and money; the principal exports of the Republic and its competitors; mental long division; recent trends in finance and the difference between real money and money of account--
    "Why on earth do you need to know all that stuff?" Cilia asked him, as he tried to unravel a tangle in his bootlaces. "That's clerks' stuff, surely. You're there to make major policy decisions, not waste your time on trivia."
    He tugged at the knot and made it worse. "Antigonus says--"
    "Oh, him."
    "Antigonus says I need to know everything about the business, or else I'll be at the mercy of my employees and servants," he said firmly, like a child reciting. "Also, you can't make informed decisions unless you know all the background. You need to know how the system works."
    "Fine," she said, nudging him gently out of the way so she could see in the mirror to comb her hair. "If that's what Antigonus says, then obviously that's how it's got to be. Of course, my father's managed perfectly well all these years without having to bother with all that rubbish. I suppose he's just been lucky."
    Basso grinned. "My father's never done mental arithmetic in his life and he hasn't got a clue what you'd pay for a quart of anchovies in the market," he said. "And he's nearly ruined this family more times than I care to think about. I sort of get the impression that following his example wouldn't be such a good idea."
    "Good point." There was a gentle crack, and she took the comb out of her hair and examined it. "Stupid thing's broken," she said, and he could see where three of the ivory teeth had snapped off. "Get me a proper silver one. I'm always breaking this sort."
    He looked away. Cilia was always asking for things, and he didn't have any money. So far the idea of paying him for his work hadn't been discussed; he'd tried to raise the subject with his father, who'd ignored the question, and Antigonus had just laughed. That meant he'd have to talk to Mother, or see if his sister would make him a loan out of her dress allowance. Of course, Cilia wouldn't keep breaking things if she handled them a bit more gently.
    "Another thing," she said. "I don't see why you've got to spend all day in that stupid room with that stupid old man. Surely you could at least have afternoons off."
    "It's only till I've learned the basics."
    Maybe deafness was catching, because quite often she didn't seem to hear things he said. "The whole point of being married," she said, "is not having to stay cooped up indoors all the time. So, how do I spend my days? Cooped up all the time, doing needlework. Playing chess with my halfwit maid. Reading books. For all the good it's done me I might as well have stayed at home."
    Maybe she hadn't really meant that. "Once I've finished my lessons with Antigonus there'll be plenty of time," he said. "And then..."
    And then. It was just as well he didn't have to finish the sentence. And then what? He wasn't quite sure about that. For some time, he'd suspected that he was falling in love with his wife (which was how it was supposed to be, after all; but he