actually　see　it；　my　dear；　but　for　your　sake　I　would　testify　so。”

“Do　you　love　my　children？”

“I　do。”

“Tell　me；　what　is　it　about　them　that　you　love？”

“I love Shevket’s strength； decisiveness； honesty； intelligence and

stubbornness；” I said。 “And I love Orhan’s sensitive and delicate demeanor

and　his　astuteness。　I　love　the　fact　that　they’re　your　children。”

My black…eyed beloved smiled slightly and shed a few tears。 Then； in the

calculated　fluster　of　a　woman　hoping　to　acplish　a　lot　in　a　short　time；　she

changed　the　subject：

“My father’s book ought to be pleted and presented to Our Sultan。

This　book　is　the　source　of　the　bad　luck　that　plagues　us。”

“What　devilry　has　plagued　us　besides　the　murder　of　Elegant　Effendi？”

This question displeased her。 Appearing insincere in her attempt to be

sincere；　she　said：

“The　followers　of　Nusret　Hoja　are　spreading　rumors　that　my　father’s　book

is a desecration and bears the marks of Frankish infideldom。 Have the

miniaturists who frequent our house grown jealous of each other to the

degree that they’re hatching plans？ You’ve been among them； you would

know　best！”

“Your late husband’s brother；” I said； “does he have any association with

these　miniaturists；　your　father’s　book　or　the　followers　of　Nusret　Hoja；　or　does

he　keep　to　himself？”

167

“He’s　not　involved　in　any　of　that；　but　he　doesn’t　keep　to　himself　at　all；”　she

said。

A　mysterious　and　strange　quiet　passed。

“When　you　lived　in　the　same　house　with　Hasan　wasn’t　there　any　way　you

could　get　away　from　him？”