And she retires alone to her desk, to set down a few passing thoughts

She believes in woman! They compel her!

By the strength of her weakness and the revolt of her calm — and you go along with me, my reader, in a sweeping rapture, flooded by the flow of taut phrases; they issue forth well-ordered and fall gently upon your senses like the trills of the nightingale, then spread through the salon... over the sleeping child... the coquettish flowers, and the tranquil air...

And who would dare to challenge, and to deny the strength of woman, when he stands before three roles — the most important roles life holds — played by a single woman, who succeeds in every one of them?...

She is Mrs. Adwiyya al-Tabbakh Masoud. And Mrs. Adwiyya sets off to tell a story as though she were speaking of any other woman — of anything it pleases her to speak of,

except herself. Chance would have it that the third of our company was an intimate friend of hers, who took upon herself the labor of filling in the gaps...

Her first schooling was in Damascus, where she obtained the baccalaureate certificate, carrying it on to the 'Junior College,' from which she graduated holding the college's diploma of that day... And she worked beyond the diploma, plunging into the social field... Society was groaning... a rattle in its breast; it lacked a woman's hand, a hand gentle with it. So she joined forces with certain ladies, hands were clasped together, and she rose — and behold, the renaissance opened out into the Women's Union, which comprises fourteen societies.

We postpone the talk of societies and politics for a moment, and go

along with the mother in the surge of her tenderness... A mysterious, sweet gleam brims from her eyes the moment she remembers her children... reinforced by the embrace the little child enjoys, till his breath grows fragrant with her affection and tenderness, and a flower blooms on his lips — a smile of happiness and content-ment... And who but she should oversee her children's upbring-ing?... Her hand on their cheeks wipes away fear and doubt, her glances set their questionings at rest, and the flood of her tenderness comforts their sickness. Here Mrs. Adwiyya remembers the days when she was waging the electoral battle in Damascus — remembers how her son Humam fell ill at the summer resort, Hammana... What is a mother to do in such a position? She would watch through the night with the sick little one, and spend the day on

In her salon... where she plays the society lady