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?
“But I managed to get yours!”
“I’m sorry again.”
“I hoped you’d try to make the situation easier with a kind word.”
“I’m more than willing.”
“Really?”
“Positive.”
“How?”
“Let’s agree on that!”
“Are you still poor?” she asked, muffling a laugh.
“There’s no helping that.”
“We’re lucky I’ve got enough money.”
“May God give you more!”
“Should I be more explicit?”
“I’m more than willing!”
“Lovely! Let us each do our part then!”
This was no surrender, it was a breakdown. He could imagine what lay behind it. She was in her middle years, approaching her decline, lonely and trembling at the advance of age. No youth, no real beauty. Certainly there had been a conflict in her mind which he had not perceived, but he was now witnessing its distressing consequences. What was he to do? He was frightened of Onsiyya and had no real desire for Asila. In his moments of despair he often wished that his heart could die and his lust could be quelled, so that he could go forward carefree on his arduous journey. And to himself he said sorrowfully, “I can’t blame people who think I’m mad.”
TWENTY-SIX
How would he find the time to look for a flat and furnish it? He let days go by without doing anything. He forgot the matter altogether until one day he found Asila standing in front of his desk. He received her with a smile, though silently cursing her.
“Excuse my boldness…” she said.
He smiled without comment.
“I couldn’t get any sense out of you on the telephone.”
“I’m much too busy these days,” he said with a solemnity to match the official surroundings.
“What have you done?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing at all?”
“Work doesn’t give me a free minute. Believe me!”
“I expected to find you more eager.” She spoke with a boldness which sounded like desperation; like one whose patience was ebbing as his fears increased.
“I am eager enough, but I have no time.”
“There’s a flat in Rawd al-Faraj…” She held out a folded piece of paper as she went on: “Here’s the address. Go and have a look at it yourself. And if you like it, go ahead and have it furnished.” Then temptingly and beseechingly: “I hope you’ll like it. Who knows, it may bring us happiness.”