"I take refuge with God! How old is he?"
Not raising his head but looking up at her, he said, "That's not clear, but judged by his abilities, I'd say he's in the prime of youth."
She said slyly, "I wonder if he's generous."
"Oh!" he reflected. "It wasn't your generosity that pled your case with them in the old days."
"Hisheart's unfamiliar with stinginess."
She thought a little and then asked, "Would he be happy for me to stay on as a flunky in this house?"
"The calf is down," he told himself. "Go fetch the knives."
"No. He'll make you a lady without a peer."
"I wonder where I'll be living, under his wing."
"Not even Zubayda," he warned himself, "made you do this. There'll be no end of talk about you."
"In a beautiful apartment."
"An apartment!"
He w as amazed by her tone of disapproval. Astonished, he asked her, "Wouldn't you like that?"
Pointing to her palm, she asked, "Don't you see flowing water there? Look carefully."
"Flowing water! Do you want to live in a bathhouse?"
"Don't you see the Nile? A houseboat or a sailboat?"
"Four or five pounds a month all in one blow, not to mention the other expenses. Oh," he reflected, "it doesn't pay to fall in love with lowlife."
"Why choose such an isolated place?"
She came so close to him that their knees were touching and said, "a Your rank is not inferior to Muhammad Iffat's. And if you love me as much as you claim, then my luck should not be inferior to the sultana's. You would be able to pass your evenings there with your friends. That's my dream. Make it come true."
He put his arms around her waist and stood there, silently enjoying the softness and reassurance of her touch. Then he told her, "Whatever you want is yours, light of my life."
To thank him she placed her hands on his cheeks. Then she said, "Don't think you're going to give and get nothing in return. Always remember that it's for your sake that I'm leaving this house where I've spent my whole life. I won't be able to return. And remember that if I ask you to make me a lady, it's only because it's not appropriate for your mistress to be anything less than that."
His arms squeezed her waist toward him until her breast was pressed against his face. Then he said, "I understand perfectly, light of my eyes. You'll have everything you want and more. I want to see you the way you want to be. Now, prepare our celebration for us. I would like my life to begin with this night."
She grasped his arms. Smiling apologetically, she said gently, "When we're in our houseboat on the Nile."
He cautioned her, "Don't drive me crazy. Can you withstand my assault?"
She stepped back and said in a tone between entreaty and ultimatum, "Not in this house where I've worked as a servant. Wait till we're united in the new home, yours and mine. Then I'll be yours forever. Not before then…. I ask it for the sake of our new life together."
81
"Good news, God willing," Ahmad Abd al-Jawad repeated to himself when he saw Yasin coming into his store. This visit was unusual and unexpected, reminding him of the time Yasin had come to discuss the intention of his mother, since deceased, to many for the fourth time. Al-Sayyid Ahmad was sure his son had not called merely to say hello, pass the time of day, or chat about some routine matter he could bring up at home. No, Yasin would not visit him at the store unless the issue was serious.
After shaking hands with his son he invited him to have a seat and said, "Good news, God willing."
Yasin sat down near his father, who was behind the desk. The young man turned his back on the rest of the shop, including Jamil al-Hamzawi, who stood by the scales weighing a customer's goods. The young man looked at his father uneasily, confirming al-Sayyi d Ahmad's suspicions. The proprietor closed the ledger in which he had been recording some figures and sat up straight in preparation for what was to come. The half-open safe was visible to his right. Above his head a photograph of Sa'd Zaghlul as Prime Minister was hung on the wall under an old framed inscription reading: "In the name of God."
Yasin 's visit to the store was not a random one but the result of thoughtful deliberation. He considered this the safest place to present his proposal to his father. The presence of Jamil al-Hamzawi and of any customers who happened to be there should safeguard and protect him if his father's wrath were provoked. Yasin still took every precaution to avoid angering his father despite the security age afforded him and the good treatment he ordinr ly received.
With great courtesy he said, "Please grant me a little of your precious time. Were it not absolutely necessary, I would not have dared to trouble you. But I am unable to undertake a step without your guidance and consent."
Al-Sayyid Ahmad smiled to himself at this extravagant display of courtesy and began to gaze apprehensively at his huge, handsome, fastidious son. He cast a comprehensive glance over him, taking in the young man's mustache, twisted just like his father's, dark blue suit, shirt with starched collar and blue bow tie, ivory fly whisk, and gleaming black shoes. In honor of this interview with his father, Yasin had altered his normal attire in only two respects. He had hidden the tip of his silk handkerchief, which usually peeked out from his jacket pocket, and had straightened his fez, which he ordinarily wore slanted to the right.
"He sayshe can't take a step without my guidance…. Bravo! Was he guided by me when he learned to drink or when he roved through the Wajh al-Birka entertainment district, which I forbade him? Did he consult me the night he assaulted the maid on the roof? Bravo! Bravo! What's behind this sermon from the pulpit?"
"Naturally, this is the least that one would expect from a reasonable person like you. I hope it's good news, God willing."
Yasin glanced around quickly at Jamil al-Hamzawi and the customers. Then he brought his chair closer to the desk and, summoning all his courage, said, "I've decided, with your consent and approval, to perfect my religious observance by marrying."
This was a genuine surprise, although unexpectedly a happy one. "But not so fast," al-Sayyid Ahmad reflected. It would be a pleasant surprise only under certain conditions. He would have to wait until he heard the most important part of the proposal. Were there no reasons for concern? Yes, there were: that introduction so profusely polite and ingratiating and his choice of the store as the setting for their talk. These warning signs could not escape an astute observer. Al-Sayyid Ahmad had long hoped his son would remarry and for this reason had urged Muhammad Iffat to allow Zaynab to return to Yasin. On concluding his prayershe would entreat God each time to grant Yasin good sense and a good wife. If he had not been apprehensive that his son would cause him and his friends embarrassment as he had with Muhammad Iffat — al-Sayyid Ahmad would not have hesitated to find him another wife. Now he would bide his time to see if his fears were to be realized.
"An excellent decision…. I'm in full agreement with it. Have you selected any particular family?"
Yasin lowered his eyes for a moment. Raising them, he said, "I have found what I was seeking… an honorable family well known to us, because we have long been neighbors. The head of the household was one of your worthy acquaintances."
Al-Sayyid Ahmad arched his eyebrows inquisitively but said nothing. Yasin continued: "The late Mr. Muhammad Ridwan."
"No!" The word escaped from the father before he could gain control of himself. It popped out in a groan of protest, which he felt obliged to justify in order to conceal the true reason for his feelingshe had no trouble in finding an explanation: "Hasn't his daughter been divorced? Are there so few women in the world that you're willing to marry a divorcee?"