It was three o'clock in the afternoon when Mandine glanced at her wristwatch, realizing that she had been searching for four hours and still hadn't found what she was looking for. She sighed and returned the book to its place on the shelf before heading down the stairs, which she had just realized she had reached the top of. As she made her way toward the entrance, she noticed an old man sitting there, absorbed in a book. She tilted her head slightly and read the title: The Sinner. She had heard of that book before.
When she looked back at the man, she saw that he had finally noticed her. "I didn't…" she started, "I didn't mean to intrude, I just… I didn't mean to intrude. I just want to ask about a book you might know. I read about it before, and was told I would find it here. I've been searching for hours with no luck."
The old man closed the book, set it beside him, and sat up straighter. He took off his glasses, which had given him an air of prestige, and stood up. He headed toward the shelves and said, "Why didn't you ask me as soon as you came in? You young people always underestimate our memory. My granddaughter, who's about your age, once told me that the game of chess, which I win every time we play, doesn't require any memory. She was sure there was no space left in my mind. But a chess player must remember every move, the good and the bad. You all underestimate us so much."
Reaching the first shelf, he continued, "Tell me the name of the book you're looking for."
"Memoirs," Mandine replied.
At this, the old man's expression changed. "You're the second person to ask about this book today," he said. "I sold the only available copy. I don't think you'll find another one. It's outdated. Honestly, I didn't even know it was on the shelves of my library. It took that young man hours to find it."
He walked back to his seat. Mandine, with surprise on her face, asked, "Was this young man speaking Arabic with difficulty, and taller than me?"
The old man sat down again, picked up his glasses, and replied, "Yes. Do you know him?"
Mandine mumbled something unintelligible, apologized for the time she had wasted, and bought a book similar to the one he was reading as a thank you for his help. She pushed open the door and walked out.
In the busy streets of Alexandria, filled with traffic and people, Mandine stepped onto the sidewalk, holding a book to shield herself from the hot sun. She raised her hand, and a yellow car stopped in front of her. She climbed in and gave the driver an address. The car drove off, disappearing into the bustling city.