I should feel that I had been obliged to find some one else to fight my battles for me. Hips tended to be the bane of Shari’s existence as she tried diet after diet to get rid of them. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. Solomon Smith, chapmen, (or what in modern vulgar parlance would be termed bagmen) travelling to procure orders for the house of an eminent cloth manufacturer in Manchester.
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