69

Zachary and his wife stared perplexedly into Qassem’s face, and so did Hassan, as they sat out on the porch of their lodging after dinner.

“Say anything but that,” his uncle said. “I’ve known you to be a model of good sense and honor, even though you’re poor, even though we’re poor. What has happened to you?”

A burning desire for information brightened his aunt’s eyes.

“I have support for this—her slave is the one who brought it up with me.”

“Her slave!” his aunt gasped, her eyes pleading for more.

His uncle laughed briefly, showing his bewilderment, and said dubiously, “Maybe you misunderstood.”

“No, uncle,” said Qassem calmly, to hide his irritation.

“I understand it!” exclaimed his aunt. “The slave said it because the lady said it!”

“There is no man better than Qassem,” said Hassan, moved by his well-known love for his cousin.

“ ‘Fabulous potatoes, roasted potatoes,’ ” muttered Zachary, shaking his head. “But you have no money!”

“He tends her ewe, and she can’t ignore that,” said his aunt. She laughed. “Make sure you never slaughter a ewe for the rest of your life, in honor of Naama, Qassem!”

“The grocer Uwais is Qamar’s uncle, and he’s the richest man in the neighborhood,” said Hassan thoughtfully. “He’ll be our in-law, the way Sawaris is our relative—what could be better!”

“Qamar is related to Lady Amina, the overseer’s wife—through her late husband, who was related to Amina,” said Hassan’s mother.

“That’s what makes it so hard,” said Qassem uneasily.

Then Zachary spoke with sudden enthusiasm, as if guessing at the rise in prestige they would all derive from the anticipated match.

“Talk the way you did the day the upholsterer was robbed. You’re brave and you’re wise. We’ll go to the lady together to talk about it, then we’ll talk to Uwais. If we begin with Uwais, he’ll send us to the mental hospital!”

Everything transpired just as Zachary had planned, and soon Uwais was sitting in the reception room of Qamar’s house, stroking his bushy mustache to conceal his restlessness as he waited for her to come in. Qamar entered, wearing a simple dress and a brown scarf covering her head. She greeted him politely and took a seat, a look of calm resolution in her eyes.

“You’ve really confused me!” Uwais said. “Only recently you refused the hand of Mursi, my business assistant, because you said he wasn’t good enough for you, and today you’re happy with a shepherd!”

“Uncle,” she said, blushing modestly, “he is a poor man, of course, but there isn’t anyone in our neighborhood who doesn’t testify to his goodness, and his family’s.”

Uwais frowned. “Yes, but the same way we testify to a servant’s being reliable or clean. Fitness as a husband is something else!”

“Uncle,” she said politely, “show me any man in our alley as well-bred as he is—show me just one who doesn’t brag about his acts of bullying, savagery or meanness!”

The man almost exploded with anger, but remembered that he was dealing not only with his niece but with a woman who owned a substantial share of his business, so he spoke with polite urgency. “Qamar, if you wished, I could marry you to any gangster in the alley. Lahita himself would want you, if you agreed to share him with his other wives.”

“I don’t like these gangsters, or that kind of man anyway. My father was a good man, like you, and with all he had to endure from them, he passed his hatred of them on to me. Qassem is a well-bred man who lacks nothing but money, and I have enough money for two.”

Uwais sighed and looked at her for a long time before making his last try. “I have a message for you from Lady Amina, the wife of his excellency the overseer. She told me, ‘Tell Qamar to come to her senses. She’s moving toward a mistake that will make us the talk of the alley.’ ”

“That lady’s orders don’t interest me,” said Qamar sharply. “It’s too bad she doesn’t know whose doings have made them the talk of the alley.”

“She’s only worried about your honor.”

“Oh, uncle, don’t think that she worries about us at all, or even remembers us! Since my husband died ten years ago, I’ve never even crossed her mind.”

He paused a long moment, clearly embarrassed, then said with evident difficulty, “She also says that it is not right for a woman to marry a man who does not deserve her, especially when he constantly visits her house!”

Qamar immediately rose to her feet, her face pale with anger. “Let her watch her tongue!” she exclaimed. “I was born here, I grew up here, I was married and widowed in this alley, everybody knows me, and my reputation is perfect among everyone here!”

“Of course, of course—she was only indicating what might be said.”

“Uncle, let’s drop the subject of this lady—she’s nothing but a headache. I have told you, because you are my uncle, that I have agreed to marry Qassem. It will be with your consent and in your presence!”

Uwais thought this over silently. He had no power to prevent her, and it would not be wise to anger her so much that she might pull her money out of his business. Sad and confused, he stared at the space between his feet. He opened his mouth to say something, but only a cryptic mumble came out. Qamar still gazed at him with steady patience.