Pertemba wobbled side to side and his hands trembled as he stood behind the transaction counter. He motioned for Sangmu, who was looking on, to come beside him. “This is Frank, who is known among many as Ang Tar-chin,” he said, his Lhasan words coming out unhurried. “You don’t remember him maybe, but he was here when you were little. Once, Frank and I were tent mates on Chomolungma.” He looked up at Frank, and his long hatchet face trembled. “My granddaughter, she has grown up.”
“She has,” Frank said.
“I don’t see so well in my old age. You are well, I assume?”
“Quite,” Frank said. “Perhaps we should sit.”
Pertemba waved him off. “There will be plenty of time for sitting later on. You must come and eat with us after you are settled.” He turned to his granddaughter. “Give him the big ro
