and that is exactly the sort of thing we want to sell more of. That’s why I’m here. I’m looking for new lines that we can sell.’
‘Carpets?’ he asked. ‘Just carpets, or do you have other interests?’
‘Pretty well everything! Ceramics, textiles, leathers, glass—anything we can sell at a modest profit.’
The Persian laughed. ‘Not too modest. Most of those commodities sell for much more in London than they do here. But my mother will be pleased to advise you better than I can; particularly if you show an interest in my people. Her love for them is as great as my own.’
Maxine smiled readily at him. ‘It’s a good thing we ran into you,’ she exclaimed. ‘Deborah and I were looking for a Farsi teacher, but it won’t do much good if the people we want to talk to don’t speak it. What with your mother being American, I don’t see that we need bother, do you?’
‘Toobi speaks Farsi,’ Deborah persisted.
‘Toobi?’ the doctor inquired.
‘She’s our badji ,’ Maxine explained. ‘Deborah has her making tea for us, but that’s about the only word we have in common. Deborah thinks she’s lonely and unhappy, but I don’t see what we can do about it. Her husband divorced her, poor thing, and she used to live in our house. I suppose she has nowhere else to go.’ ‘She would feel better if she had something to do,’ Deborah added. ‘It must have been a shock to her to find her old home inhabited by foreigners.’
‘I daresay,’ Dr. Mahdevi agreed. ‘I am afraid most of us are still suspicious of strangers. We are not apt to think their ways are better than ours and we are never sure that their motives are good.’
‘She doesn’t suspect Deborah,’ Maxine complained, ‘but she does me, and poor Howard. I’m sure she thinks we have the evil eye. She rattles her blue beads whenever she sees me coming, and she hides from Howard altogether!’
‘Would you like me to explain to her that you mean her no harm?’ the doctor offered.
‘Will she mind a man calling to see her?’ Deborah hazarded. Toobi was her own personal challenge and she would have liked to have comforted her herself.
‘Under the circumstances I don’t think she will object. You can stay beside her all the time and then she will feel reassured. I will merely translate for you and explain to her the little things you would like her to do for you.’
But still Deborah hesitated. ‘It’s Maxine’s house. She ought to be the one to decide on her work.’
Maxine made a face at her. ‘Be my guest! If you hadn’t come along she’d still be weeping in a corner and not even making tea!’
Dr. Mahdevi clicked his tongue against his teeth in disapproval. ‘How could you put up with such a state of affairs?’ he asked Maxine.
To Deborah’s surprise, Maxine flushed and looked away, as though she minded what he should think of her.
‘It wasn’t my fault,’ the American girl defended herself. ‘I thought she was unhappy because of what her husband had done to her. That’s what Howard told me was wrong with her.’ She sighed. ‘I should have got Roger to speak to her, I suppose, but I didn’t want to bother him with our domestic difficulties. Howard’s always bothering him about his work as it is. He gets impatient sometimes, and I don’t blame him. Howard ought to do his own work.’
The doctor raised his eyebrows, ‘And who is Roger?’ he asked.
‘Roger Derwent—Professor Roger Derwent. He has the most marvellous British manners and is the most handsome man I’ve ever met. Don’t you think so, Deborah?’
Deborah shook her head. ‘No, I don’t.’
Maxine pouted a little. ‘I can’t think why you don’t like him—’
‘Perhaps Miss Deborah doesn’t see him with the eyes of love as you do,’ the Persian doctor laughed at her. ‘It would be unfair if you had both lost your hearts to him.’
Deborah joined in the laughter. ‘I’m saving mine for Maxine’s brother,’ she said
‘Carpets?’ he asked. ‘Just carpets, or do you have other interests?’
‘Pretty well everything! Ceramics, textiles, leathers, glass—anything we can sell at a modest profit.’
The Persian laughed. ‘Not too modest. Most of those commodities sell for much more in London than they do here. But my mother will be pleased to advise you better than I can; particularly if you show an interest in my people. Her love for them is as great as my own.’
Maxine smiled readily at him. ‘It’s a good thing we ran into you,’ she exclaimed. ‘Deborah and I were looking for a Farsi teacher, but it won’t do much good if the people we want to talk to don’t speak it. What with your mother being American, I don’t see that we need bother, do you?’
‘Toobi speaks Farsi,’ Deborah persisted.
‘Toobi?’ the doctor inquired.
‘She’s our badji ,’ Maxine explained. ‘Deborah has her making tea for us, but that’s about the only word we have in common. Deborah thinks she’s lonely and unhappy, but I don’t see what we can do about it. Her husband divorced her, poor thing, and she used to live in our house. I suppose she has nowhere else to go.’ ‘She would feel better if she had something to do,’ Deborah added. ‘It must have been a shock to her to find her old home inhabited by foreigners.’
‘I daresay,’ Dr. Mahdevi agreed. ‘I am afraid most of us are still suspicious of strangers. We are not apt to think their ways are better than ours and we are never sure that their motives are good.’
‘She doesn’t suspect Deborah,’ Maxine complained, ‘but she does me, and poor Howard. I’m sure she thinks we have the evil eye. She rattles her blue beads whenever she sees me coming, and she hides from Howard altogether!’
‘Would you like me to explain to her that you mean her no harm?’ the doctor offered.
‘Will she mind a man calling to see her?’ Deborah hazarded. Toobi was her own personal challenge and she would have liked to have comforted her herself.
‘Under the circumstances I don’t think she will object. You can stay beside her all the time and then she will feel reassured. I will merely translate for you and explain to her the little things you would like her to do for you.’
But still Deborah hesitated. ‘It’s Maxine’s house. She ought to be the one to decide on her work.’
Maxine made a face at her. ‘Be my guest! If you hadn’t come along she’d still be weeping in a corner and not even making tea!’
Dr. Mahdevi clicked his tongue against his teeth in disapproval. ‘How could you put up with such a state of affairs?’ he asked Maxine.
To Deborah’s surprise, Maxine flushed and looked away, as though she minded what he should think of her.
‘It wasn’t my fault,’ the American girl defended herself. ‘I thought she was unhappy because of what her husband had done to her. That’s what Howard told me was wrong with her.’ She sighed. ‘I should have got Roger to speak to her, I suppose, but I didn’t want to bother him with our domestic difficulties. Howard’s always bothering him about his work as it is. He gets impatient sometimes, and I don’t blame him. Howard ought to do his own work.’
The doctor raised his eyebrows, ‘And who is Roger?’ he asked.
‘Roger Derwent—Professor Roger Derwent. He has the most marvellous British manners and is the most handsome man I’ve ever met. Don’t you think so, Deborah?’
Deborah shook her head. ‘No, I don’t.’
Maxine pouted a little. ‘I can’t think why you don’t like him—’
‘Perhaps Miss Deborah doesn’t see him with the eyes of love as you do,’ the Persian doctor laughed at her. ‘It would be unfair if you had both lost your hearts to him.’
Deborah joined in the laughter. ‘I’m saving mine for Maxine’s brother,’ she said
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