Already there are several men in Western dress and others in robes mingling about the room, a few reclining on couches. For the most part, I’m ignored. To be used later.
“Give her some beer to calm her down. She’s shivering,” one of the men orders the two who attend me.
I’m not particularly thirsty, but that doesn’t seem to matter. A bottle of cold beer hits my lips and I wisely open my mouth, allowing the liquid to slide down my throat. I’m not used to guzzling beer, but I manage to take most of it without spilling.
“Another,” the man calls to one of the attending female servants. These women are dressed like American maids, in black uniforms with crisp white aprons. They are plain-faced and virtually invisible unless their services are required. The second beer bottle is upended ov
