“I have a daughter who’s twenty-one—just three years younger than you. And still not married. The thought of her walking unveiled in these streets, like some low-class factory woman … The men you meet out here are filthy-minded!” Fatma stared. He was calling other men filthy-minded? “Had I named my daughter after the Prophet’s own, peace be upon him,” he went on, “I would want her to honor that.”
