Chapters (47)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Acknowledgment
- Translator’s 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
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- About the Author
- Other Titles
- What’s next onyour reading list?
He had not even succeeded in finding one, but such was the punishment of those whose misgivings led them into superstition. On his way home he remembered Onsiyya Ramadan. She was growing healthier in appearance and better-looking: a good job was quick to show itself on the faces of the poor. He was a kind chief to her. A tender and decent human relationship, as yet difficult to name, bound them together. At any rate, he no longer was able to imagine Archives without the fragrance of her presence there.
When he had returned to his room, Omm Husni came up to him and said with an air of concern which made him smile, “Madame Asila is at my place. She…”
“The headmistress?”
“Yes. She wants to ask your help with some of her affairs.”
He realized at once that she had come to snare him with her charms. His natural expectancy drove him toward adventure. He shook hands with Asila for the first time. She was wearing a blue dress which did justice to her breasts and forearms and emphasized the attractions of her figure. There she was, offering herself to him, no matter what true or false stories she had to tell. She excited him as Saniyya and Qadriyya had done. They were of the same type: voluptuous and exciting but not fit for marriage.
Omm Husni said, “I’ll go and make you coffee.”
Always the same tactics! And old woman whose sole concern was to see people lawfully wedded. Here they were, sitting on the same sofa with nothing between them but a cushion. He tilted his head to straighten his mustache, meanwhile casting a glance at her well-rounded leg firmly planted in a masculine-style low-heeled shoe.
“I’m honored, madame!”
“The honor is mine.”
She clasped her hands in her lap and said with a firmness which displayed her ability to face up to the situation, “May I ask you a question?”
“Madame?”
“I own a piece of land which has been expropriated by the government. I’m sure you understand these matters?”
“Of course.”
“The road they’re going to build covers most of it but leaves bits which cannot be put to any use.”
“I believe this is taken into consideration when the valuation is made.”
“But the procedures are complicated, as you know.”
“You may depend on me.”