the memories of that hour, and how awkward and painful was her position! Looks of rejoicing pressed on her from every side, while she — she, her heart dripping blood — her trembling lips uttered no more than the one word 'Mama,' and she fell down in a faint.

Not much happened after that miserable evening. She tried hard to object; she raged and wept and threatened, but none of it was of any avail. 'Ah, where is the beloved of my heart and soul? What have I to do with the pro-fessor's wealth and his learning? I do not love him, I do not care for him, I do not want him' — this is what she kept repeating to herself as she sobbed in her room. She is sick, sick in soul and heart. Day and night, darkness, morning and evening had become all one to her; nay, she resented them all, for they were hurrying her on to her inevitable end. The wedding preparations were in full swing, and the house was like a beehive — the seamstress and the upholsterer and the embroi-

derer, the relatives and the dear ones — and she was forbidden altogether to go to the university. But what had become of Ahmad? He had disappeared. Why did he not ask after her? Could he be ill? Alas, my soul grieves for him — every drop of his blood yearns toward me. And I love him, I love him. Only three days remained before their wedding. She awoke one morning repeating this sen-tence: Three days only, and the last ray of hope and the last thread of expectation will be cut off. Thy mercy, O Lord — Thou didst not create me for all this torment! She cast a glance at the window: the waters were falling from the sky like the mouths of waterskins, and the air was dust-laden and dark. She rose from the bed and began to pace the room like a lioness that has lost her cubs. Then she looked out at the desolate, dreary street exactly as she looks out now. And on this same day of last year — there was her beloved Ahmad, standing under that streaming downpour, the water pouring in

streams from his head and his jacket, like one of the electric poles standing in the street.

Ah — he is gazing up at her window with distracted, bewildered eyes, wasted by fever and kindled by love. She flung the window wide open and called at the top of her voice: Ahmad, my beloved, my soul be your ransom! And she opened her arms as though she would embrace her distant beloved — and he opened his arms likewise and ran out across the street. One moment only. A second, the twinkling of an eye. There is her beloved, a mangled wreck beneath the wheels of the speeding car. O horror... She gave one scream and fell down senseless. A month laden with agonies she spent in the hospital, suffering the fever of the body and the fever of the soul. And at last she was wedded to her husband — but... it was her corpse that was wedded; as for her heart and her soul, they had died on that day!!