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discussing how Allah is going to feel about it.
    The better part of an hour passed this way, and I could tell that both Nikki and Abdoulaye were getting antsy. I was doing fine. Hassan was smiling broader every minute; he was inhaling hashish in heroic quantities.
    At last, Abdoulaye couldn’t stand it any longer. He wanted the conversation to get around to money. Specifically, how much Nikki was going to have to pay him for her freedom.
    Hassan wasn’t pleased by this impatience. He raised his hands and looked wearily heavenward, reciting an Arab proverb that meant “Greed lessens what is gathered.” It was a ludicrous statement, coming from Hassan. He looked at Abdoulaye. “You have been this young woman’s protector?” he asked. There are many ways of expressing “young woman” in this ancient language, each with its own subtle undertone and shade of meaning. Hassan’s careful choice was il-mahroosa, your daughter. The literal meaning of il-mahroosa is “the guarded one,” and seemed to fit the situation nicely. That’s how Hassan got to be Papa’s ace strongarm, by threading his way unerringly between the demands of culture and the necessities of the moment.
    “Yes, O Wise One,” replied Abdoulaye. “For more than two years.”
    “And she displeases you?”
    Abdoulaye’s forehead wrinkled up. “No, O Wise One.”
    “And she has not harmed you in any way?”
    “No.”
    Hassan turned to me; Nikki was beneath his notice. “The guarded one wishes to live in peace? She plots no malice against Abdoulaye Abu-Zayd?”
    “I swear this is true,” I said.
    Hassan’s eyes narrowed. “Your oaths mean nothing here, unbeliever. We must leave aside the honor of men, and make a contract of words and silver.”
    “Those who hear your words, live,” I said.
      Hassan nodded, pleased by my manners, if by nothing else about me or Nikki. “In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful,” declared Hassan, his hands raised, palms upward, “I render now my judgment. Let all who are present hear and obey. The guarded one shall return all jewelry and ornaments given to her by Abdoulaye. She shall return all gifts of value. She shall return all costly clothing, keeping for herself only that clothing seemly for daily attire. On his part, Abdoulaye Abu-Zayd must promise to let the guarded one pass about her business unhindered. If some dispute arises in this, I shall decide.” He glared from one to the other, making it clear that there would be no dispute. Abdoulaye nodded, Nikki looked unhappy. “Further, the guarded one shall pay unto Abdoulaye Abu-Zayd the sum of three thousand kiam before noon prayer tomorrow. This is my word, Allah is Most Great.”
    Abdoulaye grinned. “May you be healthy and happy!” he cried.
    Hassan sighed. “Inshallah,” he murmured, fitting the mouthpiece of the narjîlah between his teeth again.
    I was forced by convention to thank Hassan, too, although he’d stung Nikki pretty badly. “I am obliged to you,” I said, standing and dragging Nikki to her feet. Hassan waved a hand, as if shooing a buzzing fly out of his presence. As we passed through the iron door, Nikki turned and spat.
    She shouted the worst insults her add-on could supply: “Himmar oo ibn-himmar! Ibn wushka! Yil’an ‘abook!” I grabbed her more firmly and we ran. Behind us came the laughter of Abdoulaye and Hassan. They’d hustled their share for the evening and were feeling generous, letting Nikki escape unpunished for her obscenities.
    When we got back to the Street, I slowed down, out of breath. “I need a drink,” I said, leading her into the Silver Palm.
    “Bastards,” Nikki growled.
    “Don’t you have the three thousand?”
    “I’ve got it. I just don’t want to give it to them, that’s all. I had other plans for it.”
    I shrugged. “If you want to get out from under Abdoulaye bad enough . . .”
    “Yeah, I know.” She still didn’t look happy about it.
    “Everything will be all