The women she left behind, and she hated that people would announce this to her. So I went with her. Hammad, oh Al-Hawaj, Jabi, holding on. When we were on our way, she said, "I put on my veil, even though the distance between her brother's house and hers was no more than a hundred steps." So I said, "I was told that before she reconciled with the authorities, she was one of those who acknowledged the authorities for the profession. So she used to carry water and firewood on her head from Al-Mahalla, and she would get tired after a hundred steps." He said, "So I said to her, from the abundance of what I saw, and this day." He said, "Then we entered the house, and the women were standing at the door, none of them daring to speak. They knew me with her. When she reached her room, she entered, and I entered with her. I put my hand on a mat there and sat down. She threw herself on her bed, tossing from side to side, and shaking her head with her hands. Then she said to me, 'What have you done? It's easy for you.' She said, 'I'm sick, and may God relieve me.' So I came to her, knowing that this was a trick on her part for her purpose. And her pride prevented her from saying, 'I am here for you,' even though all the women who were with her had left, and only she and I remained. There was a slave girl sitting outside the door. If she needed anything, she would call her. He said, "When she tossed and turned a lot and didn't look at me, she called me to read over her temple." So I came, and I placed my hand on her temple, and I began to read. She trembled under my hand.