At this point Wahrhaftig asked what the difference was between Ramallah and Monte Carlo, and then launched into another anecdote. He started laughing heartily halfway between Monte Carlo and Ramallah. Then, remembering his position, he suddenly puffed himself up, flushed deep red with the network of veins throbbing in his cheeks, and thundered carefully:

“Please! The break is finished. Sorry. Fima! Tamar! Please close this beer garden right away! This whole country of ours is more Asian than Asia! Not even Asia! Africa! But at least in my clinic we are still working as in a civilized country.” A superfluous exhortation, since by then Eitan had shrunk back to his room, Tamar had gone to wash her face, and Fima had not left his desk.

At half past five a tall, golden-haired woman in a beautiful black dress came out. She stopped at Firm’s desk and asked, almost in a whisper, whether it showed. Whether she looked a fright. Fima, who had not heard the question, replied mistakenly to another one:

“Naturally, Mrs. Tadmor. Of course nobody will find out. You can rest assured. We are totally discreet here.” Although he tactfully refrained from looking at her, he sensed her tears and added:

“There are some tissues in the box.”

“Are you a doctor too?”

“No, ma’am. I’m only the receptionist.”

“Have you been here long?”

“Right from the start. Ever since the clinic opened.”

“You must have witnessed all sorts of scenes.”

“We do have our awkward moments.”

“And you’re not a doctor?”

“No, ma’am.”

“How many abortions do you do a day?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that question.”

“I’m sorry for asking. Life has suddenly dealt me a cruel blow.”

“I understand. I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t have an abortion. Just a little treatment. But it was humiliating.”

“I’m very sorry. Let’s hope you’ll feel better now.”

“You’ve probably got it on record, exactly what they did to me.”

“I never look into the medical notes, if that’s what you mean.”

“You’re lucky you weren’t born a woman. You can’t even begin to guess what you were spared.”

“I’m sorry. Can I get you some coffee, or tea?”

“You’re always sorry. Why are you so sorry? You haven’t even looked at me. You keep looking away.”

“Sorry. I didn’t notice. Instant or Turkish?”

“Strange, isn’t it? I could have sworn you were a doctor too. It’s not the white coat. Are you a student? Doing your practical stint?”

“No, ma’am. I’m just a clerk. Would you rather have a glass of water? There’s some mineral water in the fridge.”

“What’s it like, working in a place like this for such a long time? What sort of a job is it for a man? Don’t you develop an aversion to women? A physical aversion even?”