whore, but if he hadn't been married, she could have been more. Except
for Noppawan, who was a flagrant novelty, he couldn't quite decipher
how whores and wives were all that different. Both baited the man for
the fecundity of prosperity and progeny. It was a survival response
that was selfish in base primeval instincts. It was human and
beautiful. It was filled with womanity.

She turned up the volume on her tape recorder and repeated,
"Excusez-moi; au revoir; oui; toilletes; papier hygienique."
"Was that the main reason for coming to your apartment: for
the tape recorder?" he asked.
She turned off the machine without the least concern about a
distraction deferring her scholarship. "Oui," she said, "but also my
favorite blouse, jeans, a necklace-see, isn't it beautiful--lots of
things. A tape recorder is rather important, I think. You don't want
me to be unable to talk." He nodded his head as he frowned wishing
that she couldn't speak at all. She would have been all the more
beautiful mute and deaf. He had proposed getting up early initially to
compensate for his slow, pokey movements but not as early as this and
he resented having lost sleep for such knicknacks. He didn't feel that
he should be subject to listening to her palaver in Canada. His nod was
that of acquiescence the way the King Ramas had agreed with planned
activities of the imperialists to divert their attention. He, however,
was trying to divert a headache. He looked at the booklet that was on
her lap. She was unsuccessfully trying to imitate a product published
in Thailand as he had guessed a minute earlier from the fact that the
speaker on the tape sounded Thai. It was the blind leading the blind,
he thought.
"You do know some English, don't you?" he asked.
"No," she said. He could imagine the palaver she would be saying