Quande eyes peered at him, struggling to understand what he meant. He watched Richi walk closer and then stretched out his right hand for a handshake. He, later on, watched him sit some distance away.
He hasn’t changed a bit since they last met, he thought. He gazed at him and spoke. “I am your most trusted friend you said but you have never bothered to ask for me ever since you returned from London. I heard you’ve been around for a while and—”
Richi interrupted with both hands lifted. “Please don’t start. You aren't thinking right about me, Quande my friend. I have been quite busy—”
“Busy with women of various heights, body sizes, and skin colors, right?” Quande flared.
Richi smiled and then laughed. “You saw them, right? How long have you been around, Quande? I mean in my house?”
He wasn’t so sure what he was talking about but knew Richi was no fool. He stood up and walked to the window. He pulled the curtain and looked out for a while and then looked at Richi.