you good." My husband answered coldly: "What Allah will do won't help matters; I want to know what you can do for me."
When I heard it, I wondered in my mind why God had not made me deaf as well as blind. The old man heaved a deep sigh, and departed. I sent my maid to fetch him to my room. I met him at the door of the inner apartment, and put some money into his hand.
"Please take this from me," said I, "for your little grand-daughter, and get a trustworthy doctor to look after her. And—pray for my husband."
But the whole of that day I could take no food at all. In the afternoon, when my husband got up from sleep, he asked me: "Why do you look so pale?"
I was about to say, as I used to do in the past:
"Oh! It's nothing"; but those days of deception were over, and I spoke to him plainly.
"I have been hesitating," I said, "for days together to tell you something. It has been hard to think out what exactly it was I wanted to say. Even now I may not be able to explain what I had in my mind. But I am sure you know what has happened. Our lives have drifted apart."
