She now sat at her side, stealing a glance at her from time to time, wondering what this visit would bring and whether it would be just more promises and high hopes or the good news she yearned to hear. Mrs. Afify did her best to hide her anxiety by keeping the conversation going, and so it was she, contrary to normal, who did most of the talking while Umm Hamida listened. She gossiped about Kirsha's scandal and his son's leaving home and criticized the disgraceful conduct of Mrs. Kirsha in trying to reform the lascivious habits of her husband. Then she drew the conversation around to Abbas and praised him highly. "He really is a nice young man. I'm sure God will be good to him and allow him to provide a happy life for his bride, who is worthy of nothing but the best."
Umm Hamida smiled at this and replied, "First things first! I've come to see you today to tell you of your engagement, my bride!"
Mrs. Afify's heart raced as she remembered how she had sensed that today's visit might be decisive. Her face reddened as its fading pulse quickened with a new youthfulness. However, she managed to restrain herself and said in mock bashfulness, "What a shameful thing to say! What can you be thinking of, Umm Hamida!"
"I told you, madam, that I have come to tell you of your engagement," her visitor reiterated, smiling in triumphant delight.
"Really! Oh, what a thing to happen! Yes, I do remember what we agreed on, but I can't help feeling very upset and even ashamed about it. Oh, what a shameful thing!"
Umm Hamida joined in the acting and protested vigorously, "God forbid that you should feel ashamed about something in no way wrong or sinful. You are going to get married in accordance with God's law and the practice of the Prophet."
Mrs. Afify let out a sigh, like someone yielding gracefully against her will; what her visitor said about marriage had a delightful ring to her ears.
Umm Hamida took a deep puff from her cigarette, shook her head in confidence and satisfaction, and said, "A civil servant…"
Mrs. Afify was amazed. She gazed in complete disbelief at her visitor. A civil servant! Civil servants were rare fruits in Midaq Alley. Quizzically, she asked, "A civil servant?"
"Yes, that's right, a civil servant!"
"In the government?"
"In the government!"
Umm Hamida was silent a moment, enjoying the hour of victory. Then she went on: "In the government and, what's more, in the police department itself!"
"What sort of men are there in the department besides policemen and officers?" she now asked, even more surprised.
Umm Hamida looked at her with all the superiority of knowledge over ignorance and pointed out, "They have civil servants too. You ask me! I know the government and the jobs there, and all the ranks and salaries, too. Why, that's my job, Mrs. Afify!"
"He must wear a suit, too!" exclaimed the widow, her surprise mixed with unbelievable delight.
"He wears jacket, trousers, a tarboosh, and shoes!"
"May God reward you for your great worth."
"I choose good for good and make a point of knowing people's value. If he had been in anything lower than the ninth grade, I would not have chosen him at all."
"The ninth grade?" asked Mrs. Afify, somewhat querulously.
"The government consists of grades. Each civil servant has a grade. The ninth is one of those grades. His is a grade. But it's not like all the other grades, oh no, my dear!"
"You really are a fine dear friend to me!" said Mrs Afify, her eyes shining with delight.
Umm Hamida expanded, her voice ringing with victory and confidence. "He sits at a big desk piled almost to the roof with folders and papers. Coffee is forever coming in and going out, with visitors seeking his help and asking him questions. He sits there and rebukes some and curses others. Policemen are always coming in to greet him, and all officers respect him…"
The widow smiled and her eyes took on a dreamy look as Umm Hamida continued: "His salary is not a penny less than ten pounds."
Mrs. Afify hardly believed her and, sighing deeply, repeated, "Ten pounds!"
"Oh, that's only a small part of what he gets," Umm Hamida pointed out simply. "A civil servant's salary is not all he makes. With a little cleverness he can make twice as much. And don't forget his cost-of-living allowance, marriage allowance, children's allowance…"
The widow gave a slightly nervous laugh and asked, "My goodness, Umm Hamida, what have I got to do with children!"
"Our Lord can accomplish all things…"
"We must give Him praise and thanks for His goodness in any case."
"By the way, he is thirty years of age."
"Good gracious, I am ten years older than he!" exclaimed the widow, as though unable to believe her visitor.
Umm Hamida was not unaware that the widow was deliberately forgetting ten years of her life, but she merely said in a somewhat reproachful tone, "You are still a young woman, Mrs. Afify! Anyhow, I told him you were in your forties and he was delighted to agree."
"He was, really? What's his name?"
"Ahmad Effendi Talbat. He is the son of Hajji Talbat Issa, who owns a grocer's shop in Umm Ghalam. He comes from a fine family and he can trace his ancestors back to Lord Hussain himself."
"A good family indeed. I, too, as you know, come from a noble stock."
"Yes, I know, my dear. He is a man who associates only with the best people. If it weren't for that, he would have married long ago. Anyway, he doesn't approve of modern girls and says they have too little modesty. When I told him of your excellent qualities and your bashfulness and that you were a noble and wealthy lady, he was delighted and said that you were the perfect wife for him. However, he did ask for one thing, which was quite correct. He asked to see your photo."
The widow fidgeted and her face blushed as she said, "Why, I haven't had my picture taken in a long time."
"Don't you have an old photo?"
She nodded toward a picture on the bookcase in the middle of the room. Umm Hamida leaned over and examined it carefully. The photo must have been more than six years old, taken at a time when Mrs. Afify still had some fullness and life in her. She looked at the picture then back at its subject. "A very good likeness. Why, it might have been taken only yesterday."
"May God reward you generously," sighed Mrs. Afify.
Umm Hamida put the photograph, with its frame, into her pocket and lit the cigarette offered her.
"Well, we've had a nice long talk," she said, exhaling the smoke slowly. "You must certainly have an idea of what he expects."
For the first time the widow now gazed at her with a look of apprehension and waited for her to continue. When she remained silent, Mrs. Saniya Afify smiled wanly and asked, "And what do you think he expects?"
Did she really not know? Did she think he wanted to marry her for her youth and beauty? Umm Hamida was a little angry at the thought. She ignored the question and substituted her own instead. "I take it you have no objection to preparing your own trousseau?"
Mrs. Afify immediately understood what she meant — the man did not want to pay for a dowry and expected her to provide it. Ever since she had set her mind on getting married she had realized that this was likely to be the case. Moreover, Umm Hamida had hinted at this before and the widow did not intend to oppose the idea.
"May God help us," she said in a tone of humble resignation.
"Let us ask God for success and happiness," said Umm Hamida, smiling.
When she got up to leave the two women embraced affectionately. Mrs. Afify accompanied her to the outer door of her flat and leaned on the banister as the matchmaker descended the stairs. Just before she disappeared from sight, Mrs. Afify called after her, "Thank you very much indeed. Kiss Hamida for me."