She pictures his luxurious room
says he will be waiting for her tomorrow to start their wonderful new life. He loves her. As Hamida walks away, Faraj smiles sardonically. She is a “whore by instinct” and a priceless pearl.
Umm Hamida asks why her daughter comes home late, accepts the casual lie, and announces they will soon attend Afify’s wedding. Hamida tries to appear delighted that Afify is buying her a dress for the reception and in hearing other tidbits in an hour of her mother’s prattling. After supper, Hamida lies on the sofa, stares at the ceiling, and recalls everything that has happened that bewildering day. She is, all at once confused, happy, unafraid, and above all adventurous. She recalls wishing she had never seen this man when she first entered the alley, but realizes she has learned from him in one day more about herself than she has known in a lifetime. He has deliberately unburied her secrets. Her refusal when they part is meaningless: neither Abbas nor anyone else is going to doom her to a life of pregnancies, children, sidewalks, and flies. The neighborhood gossips are right when they call her hard and abnormal. The veil has been lifted and she sees her goal clearly.
Hamida marvels at how easily she chooses a path from dull past to exciting future. Holding Faraj in his flat, Hamida had been outwardly angry but inwardly joyful. Only his self-confidence about her coming back to him inspires hate. She will return, but will force him to pay for his conceit. She will neither worship nor submit to him, but fight a heated battle. She wants light, dignity, and power, not submission and slavery. Hamida is somewhat concerned about being called a whore. She tosses and turns, but her decision does not alter. Hearing her mother snore, Hamida thinks about how these are their final hours together; she realizes belatedly how she loves her despite their quarrels and how Umm Hamida has loved her more than a real mother. How will she feel tomorrow, left behind? Hamida steels herself: she has no father or mother—only Faraj. Voices from the café keep her awake and she curses them: Kirsha, Kamil, Booshy. She remembers her lover, seated between Booshy and Darwish, blowing kisses, and her heart throbs violently. She pictures his luxurious room and yearns for sleep. Hussainy wishes peace to all. What will the man who tells Umm Hamida to refuse Alwan’s hand say tomorrow about Hamida leaving? She curses all the alley people and cares not what anyone will say.
Hamida wrestles with insomnia until just before dawn. When she awakens, her resolve remains. She is a passing visitor in the alley, as Faraj says. She does chores, prepares lentils, and muses this is the last time she will cook here—or perhaps anywhere. She has no idea what rich people eat. She bathes, combs her long hair, twists it into a pigtail, and puts on her best clothes, but is embarrassed by her shoddy underwear. She resolves not to give herself to Faraj until she is properly dressed. The idea fills her with joy and passion. Hamida goes to the window and looks at each doorway in turn, remembering events, but feeling affection for anyone. People have stung her enough with their tongues, particularly Mrs. Hussainy. Hamida’s eyes rest long on Alwan’s office and she recalls dreaming of riches for a day and a half and then burning with regret at letting him slip away. Faraj moves her more completely than Alwan. She looks at the barbershop, remembers Abbas, and wonders what he will do when he returns and finds no trace of her. She cannot imagine having let him kiss her. Hamida turns, more
