And the bargaining began. Fanutza sat listlessly on her chair and looked
through the window. A few minutes later, the two men called one another
thief and swindler and a hundred other names. Yet each time the bargain
was concluded on a certain article they shook hands and repeated that
they were the best friends on earth.

"Now that we have finished with the oats, Chiria, let's hear your price
for corn? What? Three francs a hundred kilo? No. I call off the bargain
on the oats. You are the biggest thief this side of the Danube."

"And you, you lowborn Tzigane, are the cheapest swindler on earth."

Quarrelling and shaking hands alternately and drinking wine Marcu and
the Greek went on for hours. The gipsy chief had already bought all the
food for his men and horses and a few extra blankets and had ordered it
all carted to the moored boat where Mehmet Ali was waiting, when
Fanutza reminded her father of the silks and linen he wanted to buy.

"I have not forgotten, daughter, I have not forgotten." Fanutza
approached the counter behind which the Greek stood ready to serve his
customers.

"Show us some silks," she asked.

He emptied a whole shelf on the counter.

The old gipsy stood aside watching his daughter as she fingered the
different pieces of coloured silk, which the shopkeeper praised as he
himself touched the goods with thumb and forefinger in keen appreciation