Those were great days, oh boy! It’s no use, time flies. Now we’re both old men and both of us captains - ’

‘Of course, you’re a captain,’ Mr Bondy reminded himself. ‘Who’d have thought it! Captain of Long Distances - is that how you say it?’

‘Yes, sir. A High Sea captain. East India and Pacific Lines, sir.’

‘A splendid profession,’ Mr Bondy sighed. ‘Change places with you any day, captain. You’ll have to tell me about yourself.’

‘That’s just it,’ the captain came to life. ‘I’d like to tell you about something, Mr Bondy. A most interesting matter, old chap.’ Captain van Toch looked around nervously.

‘You looking for something, captain?’

‘Yes. You wouldn’t have any beer, Mr Bondy? I’ve worked up a huge thirst on the way up from Surabaya.’ The captain began scrabbling in his copious trouser pocket and produced the blue handkerchief, a linen bag with something in it, a tobacco pouch, a knife, a compass and a bundle of banknotes. ‘I’d like to send someone for some beer. Maybe that steward who brought me to your cabin.’

Mr Bondy rang a bell. ‘Leave it, captain. Why don’t you take a cigar in the meantime - ?’

The captain took a cigar with a red and gold band and smelled it. ‘This tobacco comes from Lombok. They’re frightful crooks there, believe me.’ Whereupon, to Mr Bondy’s horror, he squashed the precious cigar in his massive fist and crammed the tobacco into his pipe. ‘Yes, Lombok. Or Sumba.’

Meanwhile, Mr Povondra had soundlessly appeared in the door.

‘Bring some beer,’ Mr Bondy ordered.

Mr Povondra raised his eyebrows: ‘Beer? And how much?’

‘A gallon,’ growled the captain and ground a burnt match into the carpet. ‘Boy, was it hot in Aden. But I’ve got some real news for you, Mr Bondy. From the Sunda Islands, see? There you could do a terrific Geschäft. A big deal. But I’d have to tell you the whole - how do you say - tale?’

‘Story.’

‘Sure. And what a story, sir. Wait.’ The captain turned his forget-me-not-blue eyes to the ceiling. ‘Hardly know where to start.’

(Another business deal, G. H. Bondy thought to himself. God, what a bore! He’ll be telling me he could ship sewing machines to Tasmania or steam boilers and pins to Fiji. Terrific deal, I know.