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June 6, 2018
A large man rose ahead and rapped on the table calling attention. With candles flaring in the draughty hall, it seemed his shadow danced up the wall behind him. Pulling his gilded and embroidered robe closely around his shoulders, he waited for the murmuring in the hall to cease before he spoke: ‘Welcome to our celebration: we celebrate winter and our harvest.’
‘I ask your forbearance if I miss a courtesy and offend, we do not know your customs, pleasures or vices; we have not come to bargain or trade but are passing through and seek shelter for the night.’