‘Look,’ I said, and showed him my gold buttons. I was wearing my sherwani and my gold buttons were bright in the sun. I had come for an United Nations meeting.

‘Faces, faces,’ said Pierrot, and laughed, looking into my eyes. Then he looked very thoughtful.

‘Speak to the gentleman. Be nice to him,’ shouted the nanny warmly, as though it were a song she was singing. The wind blew hard. The child came behind me, his hands tight shut in self-protection. Yellow plane leaves fell. At the Medici fountain, the water purred in the wind. I felt as though I could count each drop.

‘Where is Arabia?’ I asked.

‘Arabia,’ said Pierrot, ‘well, it’s where there is a lot of sand, and a prince who rides a horse of gold.’

‘And the camel?’

‘The camel is a friend of his princess. When she goes to see the prince . . . No, come, my camel is called Kiki.’

‘And your princess?’

‘She’s called Katherine.’

‘And her prince?’

‘Rudolfe. Kiki is the wedding present that the king of Arabia gave to Katherine. Kiki is from Ethiopia.’

‘And you, Pierrot, were you at the wedding?’

‘Of course I was at the wedding. There’s a wedding every day. Every day there is a wedding at the oasis.’

Pierrot came and sat on my lap.

‘And what is it you see at the wedding, Pierrot?’

‘Rudolfe comes on a white horse, and covered with white gold. And Katherine on the red camel, and her clothes are blue, the same as the clothes of Saint Catherine, you know. And they meet in the oasis.’

‘And what happens then?’

‘Why, they kiss each other. And then they say ‘Adieu’. I’m going to the oasis.’

‘And could I come and see them, your prince and princess, Pierrot?’

‘Wait, I’ll ask them,’ he paused a moment. Then he said, ‘Come. The prince and princess are happy to see you at the wedding. You’re going to show them those buttons with the faces in them?’ He stopped, then asked:

‘And you. Are you a prince?’

‘Oh, yes,’ I said.

‘You are a prince. Oh, yes, I knew it. I do know it, you know. You are a prince. And what is your name?’

‘I am called Raja,’ I said.

‘Raja is what they call you,’ he said, trying to pronounce my name slowly, and to understand.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It means a prince.’

‘Then you are like Rudolfe. Rudolfe is the prince of the oasis and of Arabia. And you?’

‘Of India.’

‘And where is India?’

‘Oh, far, very far,’ I said, looking across the treetops to the sky.

Pierrot was taking me to the pool. The nanny was happy with the young man. Pierrot never looked back.

‘Far, very far,’ he repeated. ‘And is there much sand in your country?’

‘No, not much sand. But there are big forests.’

‘What is that, Monsieur, Monsieur . . . Prince, a forest?’