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Chapters (26)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. FOREWORD
  5. ONE
  6. TWO
  7. THREE
  8. FOUR
  9. FIVE
  10. SIX
  11. SEVEN
  12. EIGHT
  13. NINE
  14. TEN
  15. ELEVEN
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. Naguib Mahfouz
  25. BOOKS BY NAGUIB MAHFOUZ
  26. What’s next onyour reading list?

Yazbeck was about to get up, but Omar, overcome by a sudden absurd impulse, detained him. “Tell me, Mr. Yazbeck, what meaning does life hold for you?”

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise, then, reading the seriousness of Omar’s expression, answered, “Life is life….”

“Are you happy?”

“Praise the Lord….Sometimes business is slow, sometimes the club is disturbed by a love affair like Warda’s, but the carnival goes on….”

“So you live knowing your fate rests with God?”

“That’s undeniable, of course. But I have a beautiful house, a good wife, a son studying chemistry in Switzerland who’s going to settle there.”

He smiled. “Do you believe in God?”

The man replied in astonishment, “Naturally. What an odd question.”

“Then tell me what He is.”

He laughed openly, for the strange questions had removed all ceremony. “Will your infatuation for Warda last long?”

“Of course.”

“Couldn’t it…?”

He interrupted. “If you tell me what God is, I promise I’ll let you have her immediately!”

The man rose, bowed once more, and said on his way out, “I’m always at your service.”

ELEVEN

He kissed her with fervent gratitude. “I know it’s a great sacrifice to quit your job.”

Her wide eyes shone with tears. “For your sake.”

The Oriental room exuded the breath of love. He’d never dreamed he would love her so intensely. She withdrew a dark blue box from the pocket of her robe and handed it to him shyly—a gift of golden cuff links.

He exclaimed, as though he’d never owned gold before, “Sweetheart!”

“The cuff links, you can see, have two hearts.”

“Because your heart is made of gold, as I told you.”

Running her fingers through his thick black hair, she asked, “Why did you bring all your clothes with you today?”

His face clouded, and he said in a voice devoid of tenderness, “I’ve left home for good.”

She exclaimed in astonishment, “No!”

“It’s the only solution.”

“But I told you, I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

The room’s atmosphere in the silence of dawn was electric. She looked at him with angry and desperate eyes, her makeup smudged with all the tears she’d shed. How ravaged by anger is a face which had remained placid for twenty years.

“You should train yourself to accept the facts.”

“While you stain your honor with a prostitute.”

“Your voice will wake everyone up.”

“Look at the lipstick on your handkerchief. How disgusting!”

Overcome by anger, he shouted, “What of it?”

“Your daughter is of marriageable age.”

“I’m ridding myself of death.”

“Aren’t you ashamed? I’m ashamed for you.”

His anger increasing, he replied, “Accepting death is even more shameful.”

Her head dropped as she wept. “Twenty years without knowing your filth,” she said in a choked voice.

He said insanely, “So, let it be the end.”