Setos was primarily a man of stomach. With his reddish-brown cloak of coarse cloth swinging loosely from his shoulders, and shining neck-ornaments aggressively in evidence, he elbowed his way out of the building, hastening into the stalls where fresh vegetables and fruits were laid out in tempting array. Setos’s barter was for cucumbers and squashes, giving in exchange taos of tin, which he redeemed later, with bags of chalk, kalsomine and staff. He was careful to see that the custom of pelon was strictly enforced. For each regular customer a tiny tin cylinder was hung up in the stalls, in full view, marked with the name and number. For every purchase made a bean was dropped into the cylinder, and at stated times these were removed and counted. Sixteen beans entitled the customers to a rebate in commodities. Setos’s square jaws relaxed and his thin lips smacked with satisfaction on seeing some luscious melons. He had already selected one, bespeaking his good digestion and critical eye, when his daughter, Ildiko, the Albino, called to him: “Thou by whom I live, Setos, the wise father, come with me to Rahula in the bazaar of sweet odors. She awaits us there.” “What mischief hast thou been planning this fair day? Is it new raiment or a bit of candied sweets?” questioned Setos, as he followed Ildiko from the food section past piles of cotton in bales, wool, flax, and silk in the raw state, to where the manufactured articles were displayed. She did not pause in the section devoted to dress or ornament, giving only a passing glance to the tapestries, pottery, enameled and jeweled vessels, baskets and rugs lying about in confused heaps. “It is neither of these,” she explained as they went along. “I crave thy judgment on a new sweet coffer fashioned by Alcamayn. He ornamented it according to my direction.” “Because that foolish man has humored an idle whim of thine, must I come to barter? Out upon both of ye!” “Rahula is already bargaining for one of the leather pockets held in a filigree of gold. Even widows may carry these. Thou knowest that she is very strict in decorum and temple service. She says that perfumes are acceptable to the Brotherhood, and even a vestal may use them in her hair.” Ildiko, daughter of the moon, knew how to play upon the weakness of her fellows and was well aware of her father’s predilections. “Thou hast no words of condemnation for Rahula,” she pouted. They turned into the portico where the perfumers’ bazaars were located before Setos could answer. The young woman waited for the effect of mingled odors on a nature whose whole bent and inclinations were toward the appetites. By the time his senses were fully alive to the seductive fragrance, Rahula was speaking to him. She was past-mistress of the art of flattery. “There is no need to commend thee to the keeping of the gods of magic, Setos. Every lineament of thy noble face bespeaks exalted favor.”