“Disentangle yourself,” Fima said. “What is there to love in him anyway? Or maybe it’s not he you’re in love with but your own unrequited affection?”

“Philosophizing,” said Tamar. “When you try to be clever, you’re a real idiot, Fima.”

“Yes, an idiot,” Fima said, and a shy smile spread on his lips. “I know. And yet I think I’ve found the answer for you. Bug.”

“I don’t get it,” said Tamar. “Why don’t you just keep quiet for a while and let me finish this crossword?”

“Bug, sweetheart. The Eastern European river in three letters. Incidentally, historically speaking, the river Bug . . .”

“Stop it, Fima. Once in a blue moon I say two words about myself; why do you have to go changing the subject and speaking historically? Why can’t you listen for a moment? I can never get a word in. With anyone.”

Fima apologized. He hadn’t meant any harm. He’d make her a glass of tea and get himself coffee, and then he’d shut up like a clam. He’d help her do her crossword and not philosophize at all.

But once they were sitting down together drinking, Fima could not restrain himself. He started outlining his peace plan to Tamar. This very night he would call a meeting of the cabinet and describe ruthlessly to the ministers the surgery they must apply at once to rescue the state. When he said “surgery,” he suddenly had a vivid image of the expression of Prussian arrogance on Gad Eitan’s face. Perhaps it was due to the fact that Dr. Eitan was not only an excellent gynecologist but also the clinic’s anesthetist. As the need arose, he anesthetised his own patients and Wahrhaftig’s.

Tamar said:

“My misfortune, Fima, is that I can’t stop loving him. Even though I haven’t got one chance in a million with him, even though I’ve known for a long time that he’s a cruel man and that he loathes me. What can I do when all the time, for years now, I feel that underneath his cruelty there’s a hurt little boy hiding, a lonely little boy who doesn’t hate women, he’s frightened of them, he’s afraid that he just won’t be able to stand another blow? It may be just cheap psychology. Or maybe he’s still in love with his wife who left him? Maybe he’s waiting for her to come back to him? Maybe the reason he’s so poisonous is because inside he’s full of tears. Or do you think I’ve just seen too many romantic films? Often, when he torments me, I feel he’s really calling out to me like a little boy lost. Try arguing with your feelings. What’s a country in Africa, eleven letters, third letter E, eighth letter also E?”