“Don’t be cross with my aunt!” she said.

“What do you propose to do?” asked the aunt after a while.

“I want our marriage to remain secret for a short period until the time is suitable to make it public.”

“Well, that’s a fine story, I must say!” cried the aunt. “And what do you think of that?” she asked, turning to Radiya.

“It’s something we have agreed on. I’m not very happy about it, but I haven’t turned it down.”

“Do as you please!” she shouted at her. “But the whole thing seems to me wicked and sinful.”

“Aunt!” screamed the girl.

“Are you trying to take advantage of us because we’re poor and have got no one to protect us?” said the aunt angrily, turning on Othman.

“I’ve known poverty and loneliness more than anyone,” retorted Othman, feeling exasperated for the first time.

“Then let each of you go your own way,” answered the aunt imploringly.

“We’ve already made up our minds to stay together,” came Radiya’s adamant reply.

“What can I do? God’s will be done!”

One month later the marriage took place in the aunt’s house. They bought furniture to suit their new life. Othman said to himself that life was a series of dreams and nightmares and that his last dream was the happiest of all. He would stay in Radiya’s flat until about midnight and then go back to Rawd al-Faraj, where Qadriyya, lost in her own world, never asked him where he had been or what he had been doing. Wisely he decided to postpone having children until he had made the marriage public, so that his new wife would not find herself in an embarrassing situation at the office.

In his overwhelming happiness he forgot how old he was and how totally bogged down were his hopes for the Director General’s position; and he forgot Qadriyya. He told himself that life had only been created as a stage for the performance of the wonders of Providence.

THIRTY-SIX