'Oysters,' I said. 'Fifty. No, a hundred.'

'As a starter?'

'And ender.'

'Prawns for me,' Leonard said. 'You know. Boiled. And with the sh.e.l.ls. I like peeling them.'

'He is a great admirer of yours, Blackwhite,' I said. 'His name is Leonard. He is a patron of the arts.'

'Yes, indeed,' Leonard said. 'Mr White, this is a great pleasure. I think Hate is wonderful. It is it is a most endearing work.'

'It was not meant to be an endearing work,' Blackwhite said.

'Goodness, I hope I haven't said the wrong thing.'

'You can't, Leonard,' I said. 'Leonard has got some money to give away.'

Blackwhite adjusted the nature of his gaze. Pablo, Sandro and Pedro looked up. The men from the foundations stared.

'Do you know him, Chippy?'

'Can't say I do. I'll ask Bippy.'

'I don't know him, Tippy.'

'Leonard,' Chippy said. 'I've never heard of that name in Foundationland.'

'This is possible,' Blackwhite said. 'But Leonard has the right idea.'

'Mr White,' Bippy said, affronted.

'We have never let you down,' said Tippy.

'You won't want to run out on us now, will you, Mr White?' Chippy asked.

'What about you, Mr White?' asked the waiter.

Blackwhite considered the menu. 'I think I'll start with the Avocado Lucullus.'

'Avocado Lucullus.' The waiter made an approving note.

'What do you mean by the right idea, Mr White?'

'Then I think I'll try a sole. What's the bonne femme like tonight? The right idea?'

The waiter brought his thumb and index finger together to make a circle.

'Well, let's say the sole bonne femme. With a little spinach. Gentlemen, I'll tell you straight. The artist in the post-colonial era is in a position of peculiar difficulty.'

'How would you like the spinach, Mr White?'

'En branches. And the way you or anyone else can help him is with money. There it is, gentlemen. The way you can help Pablo here-'

'The wine list, Mr White.'

'Go on. We are listening.'

'The way to help Pablo ah, sommelier. But let's ask our hosts.'

'No, no. We leave that to you, Mr White.'

'Is with money. Shall we break some rules? Pablo, would you and your boys mind a hock? Or would you absolutely insist on a burgundy to go with your Chateaubriand?'

'Anything you say, Mr White.'

'I think the hock. Tell me, do you have any of that nice Rudesheimer left?'

'Indeed, Mr White. Chilled.'

'All right, gentlemen? A trifle sweet. But still.'

'Sure. Waiter, bring a couple of bottles of what Mr White just said. How do we help Pablo?'

'Pablo? You give Pablo ten thousand dollars. And let him get on with the job.'

'What does he do?' asked Bippy.

'That's a detail,' Blackwhite said. 'So far as my present argument goes.'

'I entirely agree,' Chippy said.

'Waiter,' Blackwhite called. 'I believe you have forgotten our hosts.'

'Sorry, gentlemen. For you?'

'But if you are interested, Pablo and his boys are a painting group. They work together at the same time on one canvas.'

'Steak tartare. Like the Italians. Or the Dutch.'

'Steak tartare. One man painting the face.'

'Steak tartare. The other painting the scenery. Steak tartare. What am I saying? Just a salad.'

'Not quite,' Blackwhite said. 'This is more an experiment in recovering the tribal subconscious.'

'Shall we say, en vinaigrette?'

'What do you mean?'

'You know about Jung and the racial memory.'

'With vinegar.'

'That's just about how I feel.'

'They have produced some very interesting results. A sort of artistic stream-of-consciousness relay. But in paint. A sort of continuous mutual interference.'

'This sounds very interesting, Mr White,' Bippy said.

'We don't want to offend Pablo,' Tippy said.

'Or Sandro or Pedro,' Chippy added.

'But we have to be sure, Mr White.'

'Foundationland has its own rules, Mr White.'

'Mr White, we have to write reports.'

'Mr White, help us.'

'Mr White, we have made this journey to see you.'

'I don't know, gentlemen. We can't just brush off Pablo and his boys just like that. An appropriate word, don't you think? Let us see how they feel.'

Bippy, Tippy and Chippy looked at Pablo, Sandro and Pedro.

'Ask them,' Blackwhite said. 'Go on, ask them.'

'What do you feel about this, Mr Pablo?' Bippy asked.

'If any money going, give it to Blackwhite,' Pablo said.

'Give it to Mr White,' Sandro said.

'Is what I say too,' said Pedro.

'You see, Mr White,' Chippy said. 'You must shoulder your responsibilities. We appreciate your desire to nurse struggling talent. But-'

'Exactly,' said Tippy.

Blackwhite didn't look disappointed.

The food came. Pablo and his friends began sawing. Blackwhite scooped avocado, poured wine.

Blackwhite said, 'I didn't want it to appear that I was pushing myself forward. I wanted you to meet Pablo and his boys because I thought you might want to encourage something new. I feel that you chaps have got quite enough out of me as it is.'

There was a little dismissing laughter. I swallowed oysters. Leonard peeled prawns.

'And also,' Blackwhite went on, 'because I felt that you might not be altogether happy with the experimental work I have on hand.'

'Experimental?' Tippy said.

'Oh, this sounds good,' Leonard said.

'Gentlemen, no artist should repeat himself. My interracial romances, though I say it myself, have met with a fair amount of esteem, indeed acclaim.'

'Indeed,' said Bippy, Tippy and Chippy.

'Gentlemen, before you say anything, listen. I have decided to abandon the problem.'

'This is good,' Leonard said. 'This is very good.'

'How do we abandon the problem?' Blackwhite said.

Pablo reached forward and lifted up a wine bottle. It was empty. He held it against the light and shook it. Chippy took the bottle from him and set it on the table. 'There is nothing more there,' he said.

'I have thought about this for a long time. I think I should move with the times.'

'Good old Blackwhite,' I said.

'I want,' Blackwhite said, 'to write a novel about a black man.'

'Oh, good,' Leonard said.

'A novel about a black man falling in love.'

'Capital,' said Bippy, Tippy and Chippy.

'With a black woman.'

'Mr White!'

'Mr White!'

'Mr White!'

'I thought you would be taken aback,' Blackwhite said. 'But I would regard such a novel as the statement of a final emanc.i.p.ation.'

'It's a terrific idea,' Leonard said.

'Tremendous problems, of course,' Blackwhite said.

'Mr White!' Bippy said.

'We have to write too,' said Chippy.

'Our reports,' said Tippy.