Throughout his life he had met no woman more fitted than her to make him happy. Not even Sayyida. She was beautiful, intelligent, and pure and she had truly loved him. He now had come to believe that he was never going to find anyone like her again, no matter how lucky he was; and that, after all, was a just punishment.

The tide of time brought about another event. Hamza al-Suwayfi, the Head of Administration, was absent from work one day and it was learned that his blood pressure had risen to an even more critical level than that of his first attack. Othman went to visit him. This time he found him prostrate and completely resigned, the shadow of the other world looming in his clouded eyes. His appearance moved Othman greatly and he saw in it the final scene which awaits all men, whatever their position.

“You’ll be all right, my dear fellow,” he said. The sick man smiled, feeling grateful in his utter helplessness for any kind word.

“Thank you. You are a good man, just as you’re a capable and efficient one.”

“This is only a passing cloud. You’ll soon be back running the administration.”

The man’s face contracted as he tried to hold back a tear.

“I won’t be going back.”

“Oh, come on!”

“It is the truth, Mr. Bayyumi.”

“You always exaggerate.”

“It’s what the doctor says. He told me frankly that if I did exactly what I was told I could survive this attack, but that I had to retire from my work at once.”

Othman’s feelings were mixed, but for the moment compassion was dominant.

“Put your trust in God’s mercy,” he said. “His miracles are endless.”

“Work isn’t important to me anymore. I’ve married off my daughters and my youngest son is now in his final year at the School of Agriculture. I’ve fulfilled my calling and all I need now is peace of mind.”

“May God grant your wish!”

Despite his exhaustion, the sick man went on with an air of pride: “God be praised. I’ve done my duty toward my job and toward my family. I’ve never been in need and I’ve always had many good friends. What more could one hope for?”

“A man of your fine character deserves all that and much more.”

“We pass away one after another. Do you remember the late Sa‘fan Basyuni? Men go, but their good deeds remain forever.”

“True, true!”

The sick man stared at him for a long while and then said, “May God guide you to where your happiness lies.”