Nalan grabbed the ashtray, weighed it on her palm. Then, all of a sudden, she hurled it over the railing. It shattered on the pavement below. The man, having managed to spring back and dodge the blow, gawped, his face pale, his jaw tight. ‘Idiot!’ yelled Nalan. ‘Do I whistle at your hairy legs, huh? Do I hassle you? How dare you talk to me like that?’
