BY ORDER OF THE SHAH

and nodded to a servant, who, a moment or two later,
returned with a dish of dates far more luscious than
ours. We understood that they came from our host's
own garden.

Eventually our Mends made a move to leave us for the
night, a manservant in the meantime having spread upon
the floor two padded quilts, two hard but clean pillows,
and two rugs. We asked to be called at five. Our Deah
Frient could count as far as that, and said he understood.
At five we should be called. Half an hour later breakfast
and some hard-boiled eggs for the road would appear. At
six we should start.

Above our head, faint in the uncertain lamplight, a
fine example of a moulded ceiling was painted green,
deep red, and gold. The quilts made a determined
attempt to leave us. We were equal to the occasion,
having been in Iran before. We produced from our
suitcase a tin of Keatings, which had the desired effect,
although, in spite of it, neither of us slept alone that
night.

The D.P. announced that he was asleep in no uncertain
tones. For our self, we woke up at frequent intervals to
scratch, or when our hip was worsted in an encounter with
the stone floor; finally to be awakened by the D.P.'S voice
announcing that it was ten to six. We sprang up, washed
without soap in a tin basin and about half an inch of water
we had both used the night before, and assembled our
belongings. Why had we not been called? The reason
dawned upon us. Iranian time was not ours, for their
zero hour started at sunrise. Five o'clock in the morning
to them meant nine, or thereabouts, dependent upon the
sun. However, by the time we were ready, eggs and tea
arrived, and we set off only half an hour late, without, alas,
bidding farewell to our host who had not appeared. The
evening before he had, fortunately, indicated a note-book
in which to record our thanks, so we penned modest

140