“I have Madeira wine to sell or exchange and blue textiles from Madras. I’m looking for pepper. Can you accommodate?”
“What type of Madeira?”
“Unadulterated. The sweeter version the British and Indians prefer. It can keep in your warehouse until the Indian markets loosen up.”
“Any porter?”
“Some. Do you have pepper to sell?”
“Eh.” Crawford stroked the gray stubble on his chin. “You’re too early for the harvest, let alone properly dried peppercorns. I’ll be honest. I have pepper, but it’s not good enough for the American market and not worth your time to look at it. But I do have betel nut ready to go.”
Nath kept his expression bland and put his empty glass back on the table. “What shall I do with betel nut? It’s hardly a product for America or even the West Indies.”
“Well, I should imagine that if you’re going back to India, you can trade it there for a reasonable price. I’m told it’s quite popular in Calcutta and Bombay. It sells all through Asia.” Crawford raised his eyebrows.
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