Such strange speech, I thought, as I stumbled after him, out of the living room, across the hall and up wide, carpeted stairs to the second floor. Very old-fashioned. A bit like his clothes, in fact. He wore a loose-fitting shirt that was made of cream-coloured silk, with an open neck and a few buttons fastening it on his torso, running down from the middle of his chest. It had long, flowing sleeves, and the generous fabric was caught in at his waist with a wide leather belt. The buttons must have been gilded like the metal of his belt buckle because they glinted as he moved, reflecting the muted light source that followed us along the way. His pants were also of a soft, flexible fabric, moulded tight against his thighs and tucked into knee-length boots. The leather of the boots looked sof
