Both are endlessly delightful, but one learns nothing from either. Anadil was waiting outside. She carried a parasol and was wearing a silk pink robe and gloves. She started talking the moment Orkhan came within earshot. ‘There you are at last. Have you been sporting with one of the animal girls? All the princes have been the same. They were like animals too and when they come out of the Cage all they could think about was rubbing flesh against flesh. I say that it is the job of we Harem girls to school you men in the arts of a more courtly love. And she offered him her gloved hand to be kissed. ‘And keep your head down. I do not like to be looked at all the time. As we walk along, you must tell me how pretty I am and you may propose small ways in which you can be of service to me.’ As Orkhan walked close beside her, he felt himself drowning in Anadil’s perfume. She told him that it was ylang-ylang. He thought that it was redolent of the tomb – of memorial stones, thick carpets, funereal chants and burning censers – bitter and ominous.
What do You think about Prayer-Cushions Of The Flesh?
