On the Rails.

It all started on the overnight leg from Tangier to Marrakech. I can never sleep on these trips, so its usually the bar car at midnight.

She glides into the car, impossibly fresh-looking in a vibrant embroidered tunic.

We’ve met a few times in the markets in Tangier.

Both of us are eyeing a fellow whos taken over a table just for himself and spread out a menagerie of treasure. Tiny jars of saffron. Gold earrings. Cigars. A heap of what looks like Belgian lace.

Off to one side, a few antique brass seals and a stack of blue and white porcelain cups.

Those. I call my best poker face into service, but not soon enough.

How are you at negotiating, Peterman?

Not as expert as she is, it turns out. (Wrong train, wrong time for that guy. And for me.)

But I still make off with the details of this tunic.

Tangier Tunic Blouse (No. 6942) in deliciously breezy cotton linen. Lots of custom daisy and geometric embroidery at yoke, collar, hem, sleeve, back yoke and outer elbow. length sleeves. Slightly longer bodice with side slits. Hidden snap placket. Made in India.