Adrift on the Nile

"Your notebook!" he echoed, frowning.

"If you please."

The demons of malice awoke. "You are accusing me of theft!" he protested.

"No, I am not! But you came across it somehow."

"You mean that I stole it."

"I beg you, give it back to me--this is no time for talking!"

"You are mistaken."

"I am not mistaken!"

"I refuse to listen to any more of this accusation."

"I am not accusing you of anything. Give me back the notebook that I lost here."

"I don't know where it is."

"I heard you repeating what was written in it!"

"I don't understand."

"Oh yes, you do--you understand everything, and there is no reason to torment me."

"Tormenting people is not one of my hobbies."

"The night will soon be over."

"Will Mommy punish you if you get home late?" he teased her.

"Please, be serious, if only for a minute."

"But we don't know what the word means."

"Do you intend to tell everyone about it?" she asked anxiously.

"What have I to do with it, since I know nothing about it?"

"Please, be nice--I know you are, really."

"I am not 'nice.' I am half mad and half dead."

"What is written in the notebook--it's not my opinion of you--just a summary of thoughts I'm preparing for a play . . ."

"We're back in the world of riddles and accusations."

"I am still hoping that you will behave honorably."

"What has given you this idea, anyway?" he demanded.

"You repeated my words verbatim!"

"Don't you believe in coincidences?"

"I do believe that you will give me back my book!"

"In that case, you'd succeed in understanding in days what I have failed to in years!" And his laugh broke the silence of the void over the Nile. Then he said, in a new tone: "Your observations are inane, believe me."

"So you admit it!" she cried, gratified.

"I will give it back to you, but it will be no good for anything."

"It is nothing more than some basic ideas--they have not been developed yet."

"But you are a . . . vile girl."

"God forgive you . . ."

"You came not for friendship, but for snooping around!"

"Don't think so badly of me!" she protested. "I truly like you all, and I want to be your friend--and besides, I believe that there is a real hero in every individual. I was not interested in getting to know you just to use you in a play!"

"Don't bother to make excuses. It doesn't interest me at all, in fact."

He held out his hand to her. The notebook was in it. "As for the fifty piasters," he said. "I think I'll owe them to you."

She was perplexed. "But how? . . . I mean . . ."

"How did I steal the money? It's a terribly simple matter. We consider everything we come across on the boat to be public property!"

"I beg you--give me an explanation to set my mind at rest."

"I just couldn't resist it!" he said, laughing.

"Did you need the money?"

"Of course not. I'm not as poor as that."

"Then why did you take it?"

"I found, in spending it in the way that I did, that I could have a kind of closeness to you."

"Really, I don't understand at all."

"Neither do I."

"But I have begun to doubt my whole plan . . ."

"It's better that you don't have one at all." She laughed. "Except one that will lead you to the one you desire!" he went on, and she laughed again. "I understand you," he said, "just as everyone here understands you."

She was about to leave, but when he spoke she stood still, intrigued.

"You are only here because of Ragab," he said.

She laughed scornfully, but he pointed to the bedroom. "Careful not to wake the lovers."

"I am not what you think! I am a girl who . . ."

"If you really are a girl," he interrupted, "then come to my room and prove it!"

"How sweet you are--but you wouldn't care for me."

"Why?"

"Because it is too much if the girl is serious."

"But I only ever invite serious girls!"

"Really?"

"All the street girls are serious."

"God forgive you!"

"They don't know what absurdity is. They work until the crack of dawn, and there's no fun or pleasure in it. But they have a truly progressive aim--and that is to lead better lives!"

"Shame on you all! None of you can tell the difference between seriousness and frivolity!"

"Seriousness and frivolity are two names for the same thing."

She sighed, indicating that she was about to depart, but hesitated for a moment. "Will you tell the others about the notebook?" she asked.

"If that were my intention, I would have done it."

"I beg you, by all that is dear, tell me frankly what you have in mind."

"I have."

"I would prefer simply to disappear rather than be driven away."

"I do not want either to happen."

They shook hands in farewell. "Thank you," she said, like a close friend.

As she hurried away, the voice of Amm Abduh rang out, giving the call to the dawn prayer.

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