"You are certainly welcome at the gardens," Al-Adil said. "Truly, they are not mine. They were made to be enjoyed by everyone. It would please me to see them revived. You will find them at the Bellagio. I trust you know it?" The Bellagio, with its lush gardens and magnificent fountains stood out even amidst the gaudy splendour of the Las Vegas Strip.
"You are generous," Al-Adil said when Djinn refused payment for the flowers. It was a kind gesture, though privately Al-Adil did not wholly agree with the man's statement that children should be indulged. They should be encouraged in what was good for them and guided away from what was not. Overindulgence could be as dangerous as excessive harshness.
He was pleased to hear that Djinn did have henna, and even more so that it was fresh. As the leaves aged, their oils dried up and their colour faded. Freshly ground leaves always produced the most beautiful dye. "I will take the red, if you please," Al-Adil said. His girls would enjoy colouring their nails with it besides. He looked over to Milagra where she was examining a row of perfume bottles on a shelf. Curiously, she removed the stopper from one golden bottle and the heady scent of sandalwood drifted to him.
Al-Adil was reminded sharply of his wife, of the way she used to dab perfume behind her ears and between her breasts, and of course the thought of his wife immediately called up the sordid memory of Valerian wearing her face. Al-Adil swore very, very softly in Arabic in a tone so low that no human could have heard him, calling the prince a highly unflattering name. It was a rare vice for him and he was immediately ashamed to have spoken so vulgarly. He hoped that Djinn had not heard him.