“My goodness, presents all around,” said Kate, “what fun!” hoping that the fact that the girls seemed to be in on whatever secret was about to be revealed indicated that it would be something more exciting than a tome on the integration of modern Iraq, the history of the British mandate in Mesopotamia or another catalogue of Free Palestine posters from the Iraqi Cultural Centre (though of late, to be fair, Mujid had slacked off in his attempts to educate Kate, presumably having found her ineducable)—and the gift, when it was unwrapped from its crinkling white tissue paper, proved indeed to be exciting, and entirely unimproving, for it was a pair of little emerald-green slippers, embroidered with pearls and sequins and golden stitching, a pair of Arabian slippers. “How lovely,” cried Kate, “how lovely, they are slippers from the Arabian Nights!” and she unzipped her boots and tried them on, and everybody smiled indulgently as she twisted and turned her little ankles. “Oh, they are darlings,” said Kate, “and I so badly needed some slippers, how clever to choose such a present,” and Mujid smiled, and said, “You should not be walking always with your feet on the cold floor.”