does not want to see you cheated--between you and the
money-changer he is neutral--but because he can no more keep out of a
money deal than can a fly pass a sugar-bowl.

The men on the outskirts of the crowd ask: "What does he offer?"

The lucky ones in the front-row seats call back: "A hundred and eighteen
drachmas." The rear ranks shout with indignation. "It is robbery!" "It
is because he changes his money in Venizelos Street." "He is paying the
money-changer's rent." "In the Jewish quarter they are giving nineteen."
"He is too lazy to walk two miles for a drachma." "Then let him go to
the Greek, Papanastassion."

A man in a fez whispers to you impressively: "La livre turque est
encore d'un usage fort courant. La valeur au pair est de francs
vingt-deux." But at this the Armenian shrieks violently. He scorns
Turkish money and advises Italian lire. At the idea of lire the crowd
howl. They hurl at you instead francs, piastres, paras, drachmas, lepta,
metalliks, mejidis, centimes, and English shillings. The money-changer
argues with them gravely. He does not send for the police to drive them
away. He does not tell them: "This is none of your business." He knows
better. In Salonika, it is their business.

In Salonika, after money, the thing of most consequence is conversation.
Men who are talking always have the right of way. When two men of
Salonika are seized with a craving for conversation, they feel, until
that craving is satisfied, that nothing else is important. So, when the
ruling passion grips them, no matter where they may meet, they stop dead
in their tracks and talk. If possible they select the spot, where by
standing still they can cause the greatest amount of inconvenience to
the largest number of people. They do not withdraw from the sidewalk. On
the contrary, as best suited for conversation, they prefer the middle of
it, the doorway of a cafe, or the centre aisle of a restaurant. Of the
people who wish to pass they are as unconscious as a Chinaman smoking
opium is unconscious of the sightseers from up-town. That they are
talking is all that counts. They feel every one else should appreciate
that. Because the Allies failed to appreciate it, they gained a
reputation for rudeness. A French car, flying the flag of the general, a
squad of Tommies under arms, a motor-cyclist carrying despatches could
not understand that a conversation on a street crossing was a sacred
ceremony. So they shouldered the conversati