Free Out of Egypt by André Aciman Page B

doorway.
    â€œYour father wants me to be home, doesn’t he?” asked the Saint as soon as she caught sight of her daughter standing awkwardly outside the living room.
    The girl nodded. The Princess thrust a cup and saucer in the girl’s hands, which she accepted absentmindedly.
    â€œA real tyrant, that’s what he is,” said the Princess’s husband.
    â€œYou men are all tyrants,” rejoined Arlette Joanides.
    â€œAnd what are women, then?” he asked, turning to Monsieur Franco.
    â€œTo marry men like you one has to be a fool,” said one of the women.
    â€œAnyone who marries is a fool,” said the Princess’s husband. “But those who stay married after realizing their mistake are criminally stupid.”
    â€œStop these roguish airs and play,” snapped the Princess to her husband.
    â€œIs what I say false?” he asked the young girl who was now sitting next to her mother.
    She made no response.

    â€œHow like a woman. Doesn’t answer when it’s not convenient.”
    â€œAll this banter about women!” said one of the women, “but when you need us to hem a sleeve so you can go out and impress your twopenny waitresses, you come crawling to us. Marriage!”
    â€œMarriage, indeed!” the Princess’s husband jumped in. “Even life sentences are commuted. But marriage, you have to die first before they loosen that noose.”
    â€œOh, stop all this nonsense and play your hand,” said the Princess.
    At that moment the doorbell rang.
    â€œWill someone open the door?” asked the Princess. The Saint glanced at her daughter and signaled to her to open the door. The girl did as asked and found a man standing there, staring at her.
    â€œYes?” she asked.
    For a moment he started to smile. Then he asked if Madame Something-or-other was in.
    He didn’t make out what she said, but she motioned him to wait on the landing. Then, before he knew it, she shut the door in his face and rushed to tell the Princess there was a man asking to see someone.
    â€œA man?” she started.
    When the Princess finally stood up and opened the door she burst out laughing. “But it’s my son,” she shouted. “Your daughter wouldn’t let him in,” she said, turning to the Saint. Everyone laughed.
    The girl blushed repeatedly.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she said.
    â€œBut don’t worry, dear, he tricked you, that’s all,” said the Saint to her daughter.
    The Princess apologized again for her son’s behavior, while
the girl, probably to make up for her gaffe, silently offered to take his raincoat. Then the girl realized she did not know where to hang it and gave it back to him, smiling apologetically without saying a word. Unlike her father, he did not remove his jacket together with his raincoat so as to hang both on the same hanger. He kept his jacket on, checking his watch twice in the space of five minutes, tucking it back into his vest pocket, looking very pleased with himself.
    â€œWho’s winning?” he asked.
    â€œMe, of course,” replied Madame Lombroso.
    The servant brought the young man tea, and he took it, turning to the newspaper that was hanging on the arm of the sofa.
    â€œYou heard?” asked his mother.
    â€œYes, I heard. It means the British army won’t be buying from us any longer. Not exactly thrilling news.”
    â€œAlways looking at the darker side of things,” said Arlette Joanides.
    â€œIt’s a sign of intelligence, madame,” said the Saint, coming to his defense.
    The girl sat quietly next to the Saint, looking over her mother’s shoulder while the mother fanned out her cards. Once in a while the young girl would remind her that her father had sent for her. “I know, I know,” her mother would answer, as though trying to stave off an unpleasant thought.
    â€œSee what happens when you marry?” said the