Proud Beggars Read Online Free PDF

been long deprived, the evocation of this simple landscape was enough to intoxicate him.
    â€œI can see you planting immense fields of hashish,” El Kordi said.
    â€œFirst, I’d have to go there,” said Gohar. “It isn’t easy.”
    â€œOh, yes, the money! Listen, Master, I’d like to ask your advice.”
    â€œI’m at your service.”
    El Kordi struck a conspiratorial pose and said, “I must save that poor girl! Even if I must steal. Do you hear me? Even if I must steal! What do you think of that?”
    Gohar reflected. He had nothing against stealing; everyone stole. There were simply methods and nuances that escaped El Kordi. He liked this young man; he didn’t want to see him end up in prison. He would miss him. Moreover, El Kordi wasn’t capable of appreciating the security of a prison; he would destroy his own soul and acquire foolish ideas about liberty. But Gohar saw it was useless to explain all that to him.
    â€œYou surprise me,” he said. “A respectable official like you.”
    â€œThe respectable official, as you say, has lost his pen,” said El Kordi. “That’s right, my boss took away my pen. ‘This poor government pen is growing rusty in your company, my dear El Kordi Effendi. I think that others will make better use of it.’ That’s what he said to me. So you see, I am a clerk without a pen.”
    â€œAll the better for you,” Gohar said. “I congratulate you.”
    At a nearby table, two blind old sheiks were discussing the artistic qualities of a famous mosque. One of them wound up calling the other a fake blind man. This insult broke up their conversation. They immediately left their table and went off in different directions, muttering invectives of high literary merit. El Kordi seemed to have forgotten his plan to become a thief, as he had forgotten to commit suicide. It was already two o’clock and he didn’t know how to spend the afternoon.
    â€œWill you have lunch with me, Master?”
    â€œNo, I never eat at this hour,” Gohar said. “Besides, I’m not hungry.”
    He had to find drugs; his craving had become intolerable. He realized that all this time he had been waiting for Yeghen to arrive.
    â€œHave you seen Yeghen today?”
    â€œYes, I saw him at Set Amina’s, when I went to see Naila. He was sleeping on the sofa in the waiting room. I didn’t want to wake him; I think he spent the night there.”
    Gohar was seized with panic. The thought that Yeghen might be nearby and that he could find him made him jump up.
    â€œI must leave you, my dear El Kordi. I’ll see you tonight.”
    â€œWhat, you’re leaving me to my sad fate?” El Kordi said, assuming his most woeful expression.
    â€œI’m sorry, but I must go. Peace be with you.”
    Gohar traversed the café with feverish haste. Customers invited him to sit down, but he courteously declined their offers. A little farther on, he spit out the mint lozenge that had begun to nauseate him. The thought of hashish nearby filled him with new energy. With a spring in his step, he disappeared into the maze of alleys bordered by rickety hovels on the verge of collapse.

2
    SUDDENLY bright daylight brutally attacked him, stopping his mad flight. His eyes had grown used to the shade of the covered terrace, and he was now disoriented by the luminous, shifting universe that rose up before him like an impassable obstacle. The alley he was in was particularly narrow, with “keep out” signs everywhere. People, slouched against the walls or standing in immutable poses, were generously spending their age-old inertia to discourage traffic. In hovel doorways the ground was strewn with young children with glairy, fly-covered eyes who resembled little crawling animals. Squatting women washed their clothes in big tin tubs; others were cooking on a kerosene stove that smoked like a