VI A Buried Plane
, eac ter sip off an ampoule and turns to of morp races in ime and geograpo a two-dimensional s of paper.
t sky, il t dusk, arcing to colour of t. A unison of performance like a hrown seed.
In t city in you could buy anyt came at one pitcle, to terrible leas slipped over t finger of a o you in a cro.
In t section of Cairo courtyard of religious students, and beyond it the Khan el Khalili bazaar.
Above treets s on ted tin roofs en feet to treet and stalls. Above all to minarets, feluccas, cats, tremendous noise. So me of sleep srellises. Sake -my at t onto tation at her neck.
Marc. Madox is irritable because of teen above sea level and able . man after all, on Magna, Somerset, altered all customs and s so y to sea level as well as regular dryness.
“Madox, t t. is it, does it tc the noon glare.
“Pull yourself togetters.
Let me tell you a story,” Caravaggio says to . In t desert explorers. er t. dialects. Does t of Cairo. One o searc oasis. t aking t into Cairo. I to tell you is, I tient is not Englis about all ters’s all a perfect background. to name t nigrange, because I gave ra dose of morp out about eigisriple agent. aed.” “I kno Zerzura. alked about it. alks about gardens.” “But it is mostly t noairs.” t on t eac’s possible.” “I t herself.
“I kno an Englis of tripoli Axis. Rommel’s Rebecca spy—” “ do you mean, ‘Rebecca spy’?” “In t a spy called Eppler into Cairo before ttle of El Alame