“Good Goddess—you're right,” Andry murmured at last.

We halted for two days at Tashkurgan, to make arrangements for our journey onwards to Wakhan. The winter was unusually late and severe, and we were warned to expect considerable difficulty on the way over the Little Pamir from deep snow and intensely cold winds.

Aunt Zena and Uncle Bill Druss are the coolest eightysomethings I know of, and I will gladly eat the early bird special or visit Sawgrass Mills with them anytime.

You really look a sight in that ridiculous costume!