You had replied haughtily that no girl had ever spoken to you like that before. She retorted that she did and would repeat it. She left with a vulgar-looking woman, the breeze caressing her hair. Where was Mr. Khalil then? Your eyes met today more than once, and the looks were full of meaning. But no hint of memories past. No hint of long talks by the sea near the overturned fishing boats, conversations that disguised passion and powerful desires. A stolen kiss followed by a friendly tussle. Then you cried out, “One day I’ll pull out those long fingernails!”

As to the long chase which ended in the dark, that was a total victory, a victory that was followed by disappearance and a long silence. Then sorrow that lasted for a long time until your mother moved from one quarter to the other, and ended in the elegant flat in the Nabi Danial district. Who knows? This hotel might have some connection with that dark night and the girl with carnations in her hair. This woman arouses a tempest of passion in your veins. And you need moments of warmth and passion to ease your search and alleviate the pangs of loneliness. And then, when the miracle occurs, you will cry out, “I’m Saber, Saber Sayed Sayed el-Reheimy! Here is my birth certificate and here is the marriage certificate, and look carefully at this photograph.”

Then you will open your arms and all evil thoughts and doubts will vanish forever.

You have become a lady in every sense of the word. Where is that girl covered with salty spray? Where is that pure virgin smell?

* Literally “The Elder of the Alley.” He is a person who has lived for a long time in a particular quarter of the city and who is relied upon by the authorities to assist in maintaining a register of births, deaths, and addresses in the quarter.

CHAPTER THREE

He rose early, after only three hours’ sleep, feeling surprisingly refreshed.

Opening the window, he saw a world he had never seen before. The familiar Alexandria scene, the buildings and usual morning sights were replaced by those of an alien world. Even the air he breathed was different. The strange surroundings conjured up an image of his father, the object of his search. Aly Seriakous brought in his breakfast, which he wolfed down hungrily. When the servant returned to take the tray Saber asked him, “Who was the girl sitting next to Mr. Khalil yesterday?”

“His wife.”

This was unexpected. With what sounded like shocked indignation he asked, “From Alexandria?”

“I have no idea”

“When did Mr. Khalil buy the hotel?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only been working here for five years.”

“Was he married then?”

“Yes.”