light of the chandeliers. She did not jump like the others but instead, danced with skill. A light black jacket with a lace jabot emphasised her beauty. The scarlet plump lips were half open in a smile, behind them one could see wet shiny matte teeth. It was as if she didn’t dance, but showed everyone how beautiful she was, how slim and young. The girl rapidly spun to the beat of the music, and a whirlwind of air, scattering a short skirt, revealed pink panties for a moment. The entire restaurant was staring at her, especially the men, who did not care about the music of their feast, and even more so their wives. Malika noticed that all the men of the restaurant were on the same face, and stealthily looked at Sargel. The piston that was stuck in his throat was moving from top to bottom faster than usual. Malika jumped. “That’s disgusting,” she thought sarcastically, unexpectedly exposing her husband. “Look at what you desired before. You have a wife who is also sixteen years younger than you, and in the no way worse than that girl. And despite that, your Adam’s apple twitches. No shame, no conscience!” “Sir, your salad is cold,” she said, specifically em- phasising the last word as soon as the music had stopped. Sargel, like a child rushing after an outstretched toy, abruptly turned to the table and, grabbing a fork, pounced on the salad. “What licentiousness,” he said, putting a piece of tomato in his mouth. “And where are that girl’s parents? I do not believe that normal mothers should raise girls such as her.” “Is that the very thought that worries you?” “What else can bother me?” he asked proudly, trying not to show that the girl’s legs were in front of his eyes. Malika felt it but did not pester her husband. At this time, the waiter who was serving the table of long-haired men came up to them and took two bars of chocolate off his tray. “From your guests,” he smiled. “Those guys at the table over there got these for you. See? And this is a note. To you!” He put a piece of paper folded in half in front of Bagila and left. Sargel’s eyes darted from the waiter to Malika, from Malika to Bagila. He did not know how to act at this insulting moment.
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