In the middle of the living room, the dancers were moving with a slowness that wholly contradicted the music’s breakneck rhythm. Imtaz and Teymour, clearly performing a task that had no relationship to dancing, were holding the two young girls tightly in their arms, content to make them sway imperceptibly with movements slyly calculated to provoke and excite their sensuality. Suddenly the record stopped, but the couples continued to sway their hips lasciviously as if the music had been
merely a long-forgotten pretext. When finally they drew apart, Imtaz dropped into the nearest armchair (the former actor did not dare venture out into the room where the furniture was constantly shifting) and took the elder of the damsels, whose name was Ziza, on his lap. The younger one, Boula, went to sit on some cushions piled up in a corner of the room, in the company of Teymour. Surprised at their own happiness and tipsy from the whiskey they had unsuspectingly imbibed, the young girls allowed themselves to be stroked and kissed, showing as much boldness as their partners in these preludes to lovemaking. One could tell they were prepared to do anything except return to their families, whom they were beginning to despise, even to loathe. This hatred of the conformity and ugliness of their middle-class surroundings had been instilled in them by Imtaz that very evening, during a short lesson that had made a decisive impression on their minds and served to hide their penchant for loose living behind a kind of revenge against their parents’ imbecility.
Stretched out on the floor, leaning his elbow on a cushion, Medhat was as proud as a stage director who has managed to put on a show of international importance and daring for a provincial audience. He was thoroughly enjoying the thought of having proved to Teymour his ability to promote such refined pleasures in a city with a reputation for deadly boredom. This demonstration of his talents filled him with bliss and spared him from having to take part in the evening’s delights. For a time, he had been vexed by the fact that Teymour had merely brought back a forged diploma from his stay abroad, as if by having a good time in those far-off lands rather than studying, Teymour had been making fun of him. But once this moment of wounded pride had passed, he was quick to pay homage to the willpower and the unyielding nature of his old friend; it was in fact quite remarkable that Teymour, having set foot in a trap of such magnitude, had managed to come out without a scratch and with all imaginable prestige. Full of admiration for this heroic deed, Medhat’s feeling of friendship for Teymour returned more forcefully than ever.
Snuggled in Teymour’s arms, young Boula suddenly began to laugh loudly at a rather lewd anecdote that her enterprising seducer had just whispered in her ear. She stopped after a moment and let out a long sigh of regret.
“What?” asked Teymour. “Are you sorry to have come?”
“Oh, no!” Boula answered. “I am simply sorry that my honorable father is not here to see me.”
“Would you like me to go get him?” asked Medhat.
The girl opened her eyes wide, more astonished than frightened by this blunt suggestion.
“Would you be capable of doing such a thing?”
“Of course,” said Medhat. “Your wish is my command.”
“Well, go ahead then, show us how brave you are,” said Boula with the perversity of a female ready to enjoy a good scandal.
“Watch out,” said Salma. “He’s quite capable of doing it, and a lot of other things of which you haven’t the slightest idea. He’s got the mind of a devil.”
“You are extraordinary people,” said Boula with touching sincerity. “I never would have believed that people like you existed in this city. How can it be! This party is the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me!”
“And this is just the beginning,” said Medhat. “We’ve got a surprise in store.”
“A surprise!” exclaimed Ziza who, perched on Imtaz’s knees, had turned around to address the others. “What is it? I want to know!”
“We’re waiting for the funniest man in the city,” answered Medhat.
“You’ll see,” said Imtaz, “he’s got a very special sense of humor. You have to know him well in order to appreciate it.”
“He’s right,” said Salma with a trace of bitter irony in her voice. “You really need to know him to laugh at him. Because on the outside he’s a rather sinister individual.”
“Well, you’ll explain it to me,” said Ziza, turning back to Imtaz and taking up her previous pose.
Since the beginning of the evening, Samaraï had not uttered a single word; he did nothing but drink and moan to himself, in the grip of his obsession. Sadly for him, he had discovered love and alcohol at the same time, and these two ingredients when mixed together had a disastrous effect on his nervous system. He was racking his brains to come up with a satisfactory solution to his dilemma. To break off with Salma and return to the capital alone was intolerable; he could not renounce his love. Yet the prospect of ruining his career by staying in this city filled him with remorse and fear for the future. He was a burly boy of twenty-four with thick features, a narrow forehead, and black, frizzy hair, all of which gave him the sorry appearance of a degenerate brute. Nonetheless, this virile ugliness was countered by eyes of steadfast sweetness that had a strange power of suggestion over animals. The way all the quadrupeds submitted to his handling, without struggle or protest, made him the envy of his veterinary school classmates. Unfortunately, this magnetism had absolutely no effect on human beings, especially when it came to persuading a creature as intractable as his mistress. Accustomed to dealing with dogs, cats, and other domestic animals, Samaraï was surprisingly naïve in his relationships with women; before meeting Salma, he had not approached a single one. It could even be said that the thoughtless and vindictive nature of the female sex — despite being so widely disparaged — was completely unknown to him. And he had lost all hope of obtaining a reasonable explanation from the young woman because each time he vaguely hinted at something that questioned the legitimacy of her revenge against Chawki she grew furious and took advantage of the occasion to mark him as her next victim.