As soon as I sat down, she lifted my spoon off my saucer and began to diddle with the coffee grounds at the base of her cup. Then, without ado, she put the head in her mouth. More than a pea for intimacy, this, I thought, was a gesture of solidarity. Later, when we were alone on the street, she asked me if Sami didn’t want Muslims in Riche because his family was Coptic. Adorable. They don’t hate Muslims, they hate the poor, I laughed. She was shocked and I was very pleased. Perhaps, had it not been for this moment, we would never have come to love each other. But it was the look on her face in
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