Ustad Youssef Howayek told me the following:

— I came to know "May" through Ameen Rihani, in 1938 — God rest her soul. She was living in a little house in Ras Beirut, having just left the Rebeiz hospital through the efforts of devoted friends, with Ameen at their head.

My friend Ameen came to me one midmorning while I was at my place of work in Furn al-Shubbak, and hailed me from outside:

— Wash your hands this instant and come along. May wants to see you!

— But I... don't know the lady.

— Oh yes you do. She says she knows you!

— And I say, and I insist, that I do not know her!...

— Then come with me, and we shall see which of you is the liar — you or she!!

Between laughter and banter Ameen led me to the tram and "piled" the two of us into first class! No sooner had the tram reached Bab Idriss than its cars were packed with people shoving with shoulders and elbows, Ameen at my side visibly on edge. So I signaled to a knot of university youths that this was Ustad Ameen Rihani!! At once the crush around us eased, and Ameen whispered in my

ear: "Do you see how the people of art and letters remain penniless? Upon my soul, we ought to have a private automobile, Youssef. How, I wonder, is that to be managed?"

I answered him in the same bantering tone:

— I have shown you the way more than once... We open a shop — "Rihani & Howayek" — at Bab Idriss... and in it we sell "water... msallaya!!"

With talk of this kind we amused ourselves until we reached the house. May had vowed to herself not to receive Ameen unless he came accompanied by me.

We entered to find her lying abed, the white coverlet drawn up to her eyes. God! What a tremendous charge of blazing intelligence, of suppressed pain and wounded pride, shone and silently contended in those two black eyes!

Ameen was the boldest of us at speech: "Here is Youssef Howayek in flesh and blood. Let us proceed, May, to settle the account and lay bare the contradiction between your two claims."

I felt that my turn had come, and I put my question to May: