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EX-KING OF AFGHANISTAN

ignorance of the value of money, went one day to a
Swiss jeweller with the more precious saleable property
in his pockets. He asked a fantastic price for one stone.
The Swiss dealer, knowing his man, and knowing also
the value of the offer, shook his head in kindly but
decisive manner. Angry, Amanullah went away without
waiting for a return offer.

The dealer still smiled. He could afford to wait.

The next day Amanullah presented himself once more
with the same jewels. He mentioned his price. It was
less than half that of the day before. He was able to
live on the proceeds with quite a show of luxury for
some months.

There is no doubt that during the past two years other
stones have gone the same way. There are children to
maintain, and it may be expected that Souriya, the
Queen who kept all Europe staring, is not as adept as
the house-proud Italian women of the suburbs, in
providing the daily fare. Still, there are kings worse
off, and the most serious lack in that modest household
is not that of money.

Amanullah has nowhere to go and nothing to do. He
has few friends among the humble working people of
the district* He has few interests in common with the
neighbouring householders. He shares neither their
working hours nor their leisure.

There is little sport for a man of his tastes. There are
no long treks into the hills, no hunting excursions, no
opportunities for a man to show himself a man among
those carefully ordered suburbs of a great city.

Now and then there comes news from Afghanistan.
His face lights up with every detail of events in Kabul.
The Afghan State newspapers are eagerly read in at
least one house in Rome* Such items that do appear in
the Italian papers are devoured with interest and

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