I had some difficulty in releasing myself from her passionate embrace; still I eventually succeeded in doing so, but only to confront a fresh crisis of despair, whereupon I immediately confided Zouhra to the care of her maids.
Then, without any further explanations, which would have been superfluous, I withdrew.
Of course I am perfectly aware that you will try to derive from this mishap some argument intended to triumph over my discomfiture.
I would have you remark, however, that you have no right to seize upon a general fact—for infidelity is inherent in woman's nature—and draw deductions respecting my particular case. All that you can reasonably conclude is that the man who has four wives is bound to be deceived four times as often as the man who has but one wife.
That is certainly a weighty argument, I confess.
However all that may be, my misfortune having been made evident to me, and Zouhra being banished from my heart, it was necessary that I should come to a decision with regard to her.
The most simple course was to consult my uncle; his own experience in a similar mishap pointed him out as the best of advisers.
He listened to me, stroking his beard with the somewhat derisive phlegm of a practical man, who is not sorry to find that he has some companions in misfortune. It even seemed to me that I could detect a touch of malicious satisfaction, as if he still resented my conduct as an heir.
When I had finished he quietly remarked: