“I can’t think what life will be like away from Archives,” said the old man with a meaningless burst of laughter. “And I haven’t got a hobby to keep me busy. That’s what really upsets me,” he added with a sigh.

“But you’re so popular. Everybody loves you.”

“True, and I haven’t got any family obligations left. But still I’m frightened.”

They sipped at their tea while Othman cast furtive glances at him with a feeling of compassion, till the man went on: “I still remember the day I was appointed in the civil service as vividly as yesterday. It is an unforgettable occasion, like one’s wedding night. I still remember its every detail. How could a lifetime flit by so swiftly?”

“Yes,” murmured Othman with a pang in his heart, “like so many other things…”

The man smiled at him as though announcing a change of mood and said, “What about your own family responsibilities?”

He remembered his false claims and replied, “The burden is still heavy.”

“You were just a big lad when I first took you on,” he said, looking at him with affection. “And now you’ve become a full-grown man, and soon…But anyway, just make sure time does not cheat you. Be very careful.”

“Fine! And what good does that do?”

“At least, you mustn’t let life pass you by.”

“You’re speaking of marriage?”

“Of everything. You’ve always seemed on the lookout to me. But what for? And till when?”

“But life’s like that…”

The man waved his hand in protest and said, “We all speak confidently about life as if we knew the truth about it.”

“What else could we do?”

“Without the existence of God life would be a losing game with no meaning to it.”

“It’s lucky for us that He exists, and that He knows what He’s doing better than we do.”

“Thank God for that!” said the old man with feeling.

They fell silent and then talked again, and again they fell silent and again they talked, until it was time to part. Othman felt he was never going to see him again. There was nothing between them but an old comradeship and a sense of duty on his part. Yet he felt for him, momentarily, no little compassion. As they shook hands the old man said, “I trust you won’t forget me.”

“God forbid!” he answered warmly.

“Forgetfulness is death,” said Sa‘fan in a pleading tone.

“God give you a long life!”