Omar protested. “For God’s sake, you’ll never finish dinner if you don’t stop talking.”

But Othman continued, obviously enjoying her conversation. “Will you study literature in the university?”

“Science.”

“Bravo, but why science when writing poetry is your main interest?”

Zeinab said proudly, “She excels in science.”

Buthayna explained, “Papa’s enthusiastic about studying science.”

Othman looked at Omar quizzically, then said to Buthayna, “One day you’ll realize science is the great hope.”

“But I won’t give up poetry.”

“And why should you?”

“How many years did you spend in prison?”

“About twenty.”

He laughed at her astonished expression. “And yet I knew a man who did not want to leave jail. Every time the date of release drew near, he’d commit another small crime, just to prolong his imprisonment.”

“What a crazy way to behave.”

“How often people behave in crazy ways.”

“Don’t you want him to eat?” Omar reproached her.

Othman and Buthayna continued their conversation after they’d all adjourned to the parlor for coffee. But around ten o’clock, at Mustapha’s suggestion, the three men went out to the balcony, and the women moved to the living room.

Othman wanted to know what Mustapha had done with his life, so he gave him a frank, rather jaded account and concluded by asking, “What are your thoughts, now that you’ve heard what our situation is?”

Othman replied, a bit apathetic and sullen after Buthayna’s disappearance, “I’ll have to get started as a lawyer, first of all.”

“Yes, but I’m asking what’s going on in your head.”

“I’ll have to study the conditions…”

“As you should, but our old position is no longer really valid.”

“It is valid,” he said defiantly.

“I mean that the state is now socialist. Isn’t that enough?”

Omar looked in silence at the flowing river and at the reflections of lamplight on the surface. A crescent moon was visible on the horizon.

Othman said bitterly, “Just because you have changed doesn’t mean truth has changed.”

“We haven’t changed so much as developed.”

“Backward.”

“The country has certainly gone forward.”

“Maybe, but you’ve gone backward.”

Omar was still looking at the moon as Mustapha said jokingly, “Aren’t you satisfied with what you’ve already sacrificed of your life?”

“Truth is never satisfied.”

“My dear friend, it’s not your responsibility alone.”

“Man shoulders the burden of humanity as a whole, or else he’s nothing.”

Mustapha laughed. “If I can’t shoulder the burden of Mustapha, how could I take on humanity as a whole?”

“How pathetic…I can’t believe how degenerate you’ve both become.”

Mustapha couldn’t take the conversation seriously, but, pointing to Omar, he said, “Let Omar be, for he’s going through a bad time. A revulsion from work, success, and the family.”

Othman looked inquiringly at Omar, but his head was still turned toward the Nile.