Spirit Tiger Read Online Free PDF

him.
    Maryam noticed him and smiled to herself with satisfaction. It was always uplifting to be proven right yet again. She turned that same pleased smile on her customer, who was somewhat surprised to see Maryam’s face light up, though no deal had yet been made.
    â€˜Listen to me,’ she advised the woman and her daughter in front of her, petting the pale pink kain songket like a favourite cat. ‘I can see you love this fabric, of course, you do! Who wouldn’t, with this kind of quality and the colour?
    Well, it’s perfect, I think we all agree, right?’ She looked at them, seeking confirmation, which she received from the bride-to-be, though the mother kept a dour and disapproving face – no doubt in order to improve her bargaining position.
    â€˜It’s lovely,’ the girl said appreciatively, stroking the fabric with a shy smile.
    â€˜ Asal terbang, burung lah ,’ her mother sniffed, ‘Anything that flies is a bird to her. She’s easily pleased,’ she added disapprovingly. ‘I’m not so sure …’
    â€˜About the colour?’ Maryam asked with a polite smile. ‘Because the quality is beyond doubt, there’s no question about it. Look at these threads,’ she urged, ‘do you see how fine the silk is?’
    She leaned to her side and lit her cigarette. She needed some kind of a break with this woman. She hoped this was put on for her benefit, and not her usual disposition, which would make her unbearable. She began wrapping the fabric in brown paper. She often found the assumption that a deal was immanent often made it so, and wrapping the merchandise as though the customer had already bought it seemed to make them also feel they’d agreed. This customer seemed more strong-minded than most.
    â€˜Why are you wrapping it?’ she asked sharply. ‘Have we agreed?’
    â€˜No?’ Maryam asked mildly. ‘I’m so sorry…’ She began slowly, very slowly, unwrapping it, preparing to place it, regretfully, back on the counter.
    â€˜ Mak! ’ The bride finally spoke up. ‘ Mak , listen…’
    Her mother led her away a few steps from the stall, no doubt to lecture her on not seeming to be too enthusiastic about any particular merchandise, and in so doing, they left some space in front of Maryam into which Osman slid.
    â€˜ Mak Cik !’ he greeted her happily.
    â€˜ Che Osman!’ she replied in the same mood. ‘How nice to see you! I was just talking about you to Mak Cik Rubiah, you know, and I was telling her that I thought you might be coming to see me one of these days.’
    Osman blushed, but not quite to the tips of his ears as he had routinely done before he was married. His wife must be making him more mature , she thought.
    â€˜I’d like your help,’ Osman said diffidently. ‘I know you don’t want to be involved in police business again, like you said, but …’
    Maryam interrupted him imperiously. ‘This one is different,’ she informed him. ‘This one I want to know more about. You know, I think it’s one of the gamblers he catered to. Can you be surprised? People like that, I mean, people who have already begun to waste their lives, it stands to reason they might be tempted to do all sorts of things. Right?’ she prodded him.
    He neither nodded nor shook his head, but instead moved it around aimlessly. It was a lame response, he knew, but he was unable to come up with anything else sufficiently placating while still expressing some level of doubt. ‘Well,’ he explained, ‘we don’t know yet if it’s anyone from his … business,’ for lack of another term, ‘it still could be anyone .’
    â€˜Nonsense,’ Maryam corrected him with asperity. ‘Why waste time? It’s one of those wastrels, and I’ll be happy to find him. Help you find him,’ she corrected herself politely. She