“Perhaps. And perhaps not. We can’t risk it. We’ll lose everything. Love, hope, our future. One word from him will condemn us to eternal poverty and misery. Don’t you ever forget that.” She sighed heavily, then continued: “That’s why I stopped coming to you. I obviously couldn’t explain to you before. I imagined your torture through mine. But my husband has given me all his wealth only on the condition that I’m absolutely faithful to him. He told me I’m his hands, eyes, daughter, wife; in fact, everything. I must be true to him during his few remaining days.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

“I must stop coming here.”

“But this is madness!” he growled.

“This is the only sane thing to do.”

“How long must I wait? Till when?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed.

“My money will run out, and I’ll have to leave.”

“I can give you some to keep you here as long as possible.”

“That won’t change the inevitable.”

“I know. But what can we do? I’m suffering just as you are.”

“My plight is worse. I’m threatened with torture and poverty.”

“I’m suffering for both of us. Why can’t you realize this?”

“When will the old man die?” he muttered to himself.

“Do you think I know? I’m not a clairvoyant.”

“Then what are you?” he snapped.

“An unhappy woman. Unhappier than you can imagine.”

“Maybe death will answer our call, and he’ll die suddenly.”

“Maybe.”

“He’s an old man; he can’t live forever.”

“He might die tonight or in twenty years’ time. His elder sister died two years ago,” she said with a sigh. Dawn, the cock crowing, the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer. “There’s nothing we can do. I must go.”

“I won’t see you unless he dies?”

“There’s nothing we can do.”

“There is,” he said forcefully. The silence was deafening. He continued: “We’ve so far spoken in riddles, in the dark. We are going to speak frankly now. I must kill him!”

Her body trembled and so did her voice. “You don’t really believe what you’re saying. I’m not cruel or savage. My only fault is that I love you beyond measure. We must wait.”

“So that he lives as long as his sister?” he retorted with contempt.

“Or whenever the Almighty decides.”

He had already decided. His blood was boiling and he felt hot despite his nakedness and the cool winter night. He paced the room furiously. “What happens after the crime?” he asked in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. She was silent. The darkness was oppressive. “Don’t waste time,” he snapped. “What happens after the crime?”

She gasped slightly as though choking over words, then very softly she said, “We wait a while. We can meet secretly, then I’ll be yours. Me and the money.”