'Lead on, friend.

We don't mind if we do.' He led us to a back street and then up two pairs of stairs to a very snug little flat.

The place was filled with fine red lacquer, and I guessed that art-dealing was his nominal business.

Portugal, since the republic broke up the convents and sold up the big royalist grandees, was full of bargains in the lacquer and curio line.
He filled us two long tankards of very good Munich beer.
'_Prosit_,' he said, raising his glass.

'You are from South Africa.
What make you in Europe ?' We both looked sullen and secretive.
'That's our own business,' I answered.