Chapters (40)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- INTRODUCTION
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- NOTES
- Naguib Mahfouz
- BOOKS BY NAGUIB MAHFOUZ
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“Then you’re here as a civil servant?”
“Almost.”
“Almost?”
“You’re like a district attorney!” he barked. “Come on!”
She asked to be paid and he gave it to her—much less than he’d expected. He felt sorry for her for the first time since he had woken up. They left the flat together and separated at the entrance to the building. He headed straight for a restaurant to satisfy his hunger, then killed the hours between three and six at the first cinema he came to. Afterwards, he sat in the Grand Trianon drinking coffee and reading the evening paper. Around nine o’clock he went to his dark seat in the Petit Trianon corridor and listened to the music, amusing himself by watching the dancers and swilling cognac. At one point he wished that the man who’d been behind the tree the night before would raise his voice again and pour abuses on the world.
“I’m a student of Sufism39 as well,” he said aloud, as though he were talking to Samir Abd al-Baqi. “You’re not the only one.” He smiled regretfully to himself. Don’t think about the future, he told himself. That’s right. You’re still only at the honeymoon stage. What you need is a long unbroken vacation. Don’t be upset by your own insignificance. It’s a historical phenomenon.
He left the place a little before midnight. As he approached the entrance to his building, he was surprised to see the girl sitting in the Greek café on the chair nearest the doorway, her face smiling in welcome. She sprang up and ran to meet him in front of the entrance. He stopped in bewilderment.
“You weren’t late for your appointment?” she said.
She went in first. He hesitated a moment and then followed her. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“I was waiting for you,” she replied, taking him by the arm. “If he comes back alone, I told myself, I’ll be in luck.”
He was pleased by her flattery, even though he was painfully aware of the situation. “What’s your name?” he asked her in the elevator.
“Riri,” she replied.
“That’s obviously a genuine Tanta name!” he retorted with a laugh.
“It’s the one I use in Alexandria.”
There was a short pause.
“My heart tells me,” she continued, “that you’ll offer me your hospitality.”