Two wandering holy men walk past quietly. A cockatoo makes some noise and then settles down. Goats nibble at the grass; a dog barks at outsiders; then caresses the hand of the master. The rays of a late afternoon sun, still warm in mid-October, slant through thick foliage, forming a pleasant criss-cross of light and shade. Amidst all this sits William Dalrymple, happy to smile, happier to laugh.
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