“Philip lost count of the Pundaris who came and went from the flat that evening. His ears were filled with their easy chatter, and his nose with the overpowering aroma of the incense from the okaly tree, some of which he noticed was being rolled into strips of dried yellibellee leaves, then lit, and then passed from guest to guest with much pleasurable clucking and humming. When his turn came, his lungs filled with a rush of menthol and cinnamon, edged he thought with an aftertaste of fly spray.”