“Please don’t be angry.”

“I yield to the eternal conditions.”

“Eternal?”

“I mean the feminine conditions.”

“Actually, I’m tired.”

“So am I, but I’ll arrange the right place for us.”

“Wait till we meet again.”

“I’ll start setting things up.”

“Wait a little.”

“I have a feeling that we’ll stay together.”

“Yes,” she said, looking ahead at the road.

It was nearly dawn when he returned home, and as he rode the elevator, he remembered how his father used to rebuke him for his late-night escapades. Entering the bedroom, he saw Zeinab sitting on the dresser stool, looking at him with dulled and saddened eyes.

He said quietly, “You should have been asleep.”

She spread her hands in despair. “This is the third night.”

Undressing, he said distantly, “It was unavoidable.”

She asked him more sharply, “Home upsets you?”

“No, but it’s true, I am disturbed.”

“And how have you spent your nights?”

“No place in particular, at the movies, at coffeehouses, roaming around in the car.”

“And I’m here with all kinds of ideas running through my head.”

“While you should be sound asleep.”

“I’ll grow ill in the end.”

“Follow my advice.”

She sighed deeply. “You treat me with such deadly coldness.”

There’s no doubt of that. The man you know has shed his skin and now he runs panting after a mysterious call, leaving behind him a trail of dust, all the joys of yesterday, all his Utopian dreams, even the girl whose youthful beauty held such promise in store when church bells rang. Infatuated, you once looked into those green eyes and said, “Love is fearless.”

She murmured, clinging to you, “But my family.”

“I’m your family, I’m your world. The Day of Judgment will come before I desert you.”

Today your life hangs on a cheap song.

Sleep, Zeinab, for your sake and for mine.

—

Another woman stood on the red stage, singing,

“I can’t help wanting you more every time we meet.

The flame leaps higher with each heartbeat.”

He leaned over to Mustapha. “Where’s Margaret?” he asked.

Mustapha got up to inquire, then returned saying, “An unpleasant surprise.”

“What is it?”

“She’s gone.”

“Where?”

“Abroad.”

“Did this happen unexpectedly?”

Mustapha brushed his hand disdainfully. “Let’s look for someone else.”

EIGHT

This act of faithlessness set off a reaction twice as intense and he felt he was in a desperate race with insanity. In the end those swaying branches would speak. Mustapha asked, “Do you really think this is the remedy?”

“Maybe. It’s the only thing that’s helped so far.”

He stopped the car in front of the Capri Club and said as they were getting out, “I’ve tried so many things, as you know, to no avail. I did feel a heartthrob with Margaret. Passing illusion that she was, the heartthrob was real.”