The Sheltering Sky

'You must save me,' she said between kisses.
'Yes,' he answered solemnly.
He was as comforting as Belqassim had been disturbing.
Atallah did not lift the curtain until evening, when by the light of his lamp he saw them both asleep on the blanket. He set the lamp down in the doorway and went out.
Some time later she awoke. It was silent and hot in the room. She sat up and looked at the long black body beside her, inert and shining like a statue. She laid her hand on the chest: the heart beat heavily, slowly. The limbs stirred. The eyes opened, the mouth broke into a smile.
'I have a big heart,' he said to her, putting his hand over hers and holding it there on his chest.
'Yes,' she said absently.
'When I feel well, I think I'm the best man in the world. When I'm sick, I hate myself. I say: you're no good at all, Amar. You're made of mud.' He laughed.