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you for not remaining in the house, but the best I could do was ask you if you were lost.”
    “Not quite, Rashid. Your first words to me were a declaration. You said, ‘You are lost.’ I answered, ‘Yes, I am, and hungry.’ And then you declared, ‘Never do this again. Never wander away from the house without asking me. You would not dare to do that to my father, and I will not have you do it to me.’ Then you took me firmly by the arm, and together we walked under that hot sun toward the old port. You told me that you were taking me to a restaurant where we were to meet your friends and, since there was a language barrier and no one there could speakTurkish, I need not worry about being with strangers. You were charming, kind, and interested in me. You wanted to know all about me. For the first time in my life someone wanted to know me, Humayun. I was so happy; you won me to your heart before we ever joined the foreign colony in Xania. They were all at lunch at that restaurant with the awning. That was the first time I had ever dined in public.”
    Humayun began to smile at Rashid as she added, “You said something to me before we joined the group seated at that long rectangular table. It was littered with plates of half-eaten food, I remember, and full bottles of wine and glasses. You said, ‘Remember, when in public like now, I will introduce you as a friend of the family. They would not understand your real role in my life. That’s a secret we must keep to ourselves.’ ”
    There was a look of astonishment on Rashid’s face when he asked, “It was so long ago. A lot has happened since that day. But you still remember it all, don’t you?”
    “You, and that first lunch with the foreigners of Xania, changed my life. Am I going to forget that? They fascinated and you charmed. I fell in love for the first time in my life. We spent those first three idyllic days alone together, except when we took a meal at midday with the group. None of it has dimmed for me. The evenings when you cooked for us in your house and talked endlessly about yourself and your ambitions, your dreams, your love for the erotic — how uninhibited you seemed about that — all of it you wanted to share with me. You showed me the most passionate sexual side of yourself. I thrilled to it, rose to it with my own. But, if we were wild in our sex, we were tender too. You taught me so much about the island, the people, the language, the customs. I was a most willing pupil. I sat at your feet in adoration. You taught me the basics of speaking well in Greek — so forcefully impressing on me how much you loved and respected the language and resented it being misused. You spoke about writers and painting. And I fell hopelessly in love with you. Any woman would have.”
    Rashid squeezed her hand reassuringly rather than put love into words. Humayun had to turn away from him, somoved was she by the memories. They had brought a tear to her eye, which she would rather not have Rashid see. It was evening now, and the car rattled through the darkness toward the very place where their lives together began.
    “I was so much a part of the foreign colony living in Xania then,” Rashid mused. “I thought the expatriate poets, painters, writers, and escapists were fascinating. I spent most of my time with them and Christos. Your arrival never drew me away from my love for the West, for Westerners and their life-style, but it did draw me back into the Turkish, the Oriental side of my life. It reminded me that I was first of all an Ottoman, a Muslim. I think it revived my love for that life of power and passion my ancestors thrived on. Decadent. Intriguing.”
    Gently, with fingers on her cheek, he turned her face back toward his and continued, “I too have memories. Maybe not as acute as yours, but they are there. Will you play the flute and sing for me tonight the way you did then? I was delighted and charmed. Yes, and I suppose even seduced by your