"My pleasure, Your Grace!" The merchant smoothes his mustache and commences his story with an air of importanc

"My pleasure, Your Grace!" The merchant smoothes his mustache and commences his story with an air of importance, speaking in a sonorous voice, gesturing widely. "Hassuf's family was not rich, and he, as many in Absalom, had to start from the very bottom. As a child, while his peers chased pigeons and stole apples at the market, he worked at a tannery... Oh, I can still smell this disgusting stench..." The man pulls out a heavily perfumed handkerchief and waves it in the air.