“When he told me later how desperate he was to make himself understood—without, of course, coming right out, saying it was me he wanted—I didn't know whether to laugh.or cry. Finally, on the sixth visit, when he was ready to state his purpose openly, regard- less of the consequence, Mr. Haas mentioned that I was planning to convert to Islam. It had nothing to do with Lutfi, my decision to convert. Al-Remal was the home I had been searching for since my parents died—and Islam was its religion. But Lutfi, that dear man, he was struck speechless by what he thought was a sign from heaven: that his greatest wish was in harmony with God’s will. He set his gifts on Mr. Haas’s desk, went to his plane, and flew away.

“Finally, my supervisor understood that he had been a bit blind. That afternoon, when he told me that I seemed to have an admirer, when he saw my face, he said, “I’ve been blind and a fool.” After that, he was more than ready to play matchmaker—or whatever else it took to help us get married.”

Miss Vanderbeek paused. Her shoulders slumped; her eyelids seemed to droop in an attitude of dejection. This part Amira did not like, for she much preferred stories that ended with “happily ever after.”

“But Lutfi’s family did not want him to marry me. They didn’t care whether or not I converted. To them, I was still a foreigner. A woman without a male relative to uphold my honor. A woman who worked among men.” Miss Vanderbeek spoke the words as if they were curses, and Amira flinched at the harshness of her tone.

“They could not stop him from marrying me, or so they said. But they told him that if he acted against their wishes, he would no longer be welcome under his father’s roof. It would be as if he were dead.

“Poor Lutfi! How he despaired. He said he could not live without me—yet he could not desert his family.”

“But you urged him to be patient. You said you would wait for him until his family relented,” Amira filled in. “Forever, if necessary.”

“Yes.” Miss Vanderbeek’s voice was almost a whisper. “Forever. But we did not have forever. Two years later, Lutfi’s plane crashed in the Red Sea near Jeddah. There were no passengers. And Lutfi’s body was never found.”

Amira reached out and touched her nanny’s hand. “But you stayed here in al- Remal.” “Yes, Amira, I stayed. I remained with the Dutch company until the project was finished. Then I worked for an American corporation, teaching languages to its employees and their children. But …”

“But you weren’t really happy with the Americans.”