“Quit　torturing　your　brother；　tyrant；”　said　Hayriye。　She　covered　herself　and

was　heading　outside。　“Leave　him　be。”

“Mind　your　own　affairs；　slave　girl；”　my　brother　said。　He　was　still　twisting

my　arm。　“Where　are　you　off　to？”

“To　buy　lemons；”　Hayriye　said。

“You’re　a　liar；”　my　brother　said。　“The　cupboard　is　full　of　lemons。”

As　he　had　eased　up　on　my　arm；　I　was　suddenly　able　to　free　myself。　I　kicked

him and grabbed a candleholder by its base； but he pounced on me；

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smothering me。 He knocked the candleholder away； and the copper tray fell

over。

“You　two　scourges　of　God！”　my　mother　said。　She　kept　her　voice　lowered　so

the guest wouldn’t hear。 How had she passed before the open door of the

workshop；　through　the　hallway；　and　e　downstairs　without　being　seen　by

Black？

She　separated　us。　“You　two　just　continue　to　disgrace　me；　don’t　you？”

“Orhan　lied　to　the　master　binder；”　Shevket　said。　“He　left　me　there　to　do　all

the　work。”

“Hush！”　my　mother　said；　slapping　him。

She’d hit him softly。 My brother didn’t cry。 “I want my father；” he said。

“When　he　returns　he’s　going　to　take　up　Uncle　Hasan’s　ruby…handled　sword；

and　we’re　going　to　move　back　with　Uncle　Hasan。”

“Shut up！” said my mother。 She suddenly became so angry that she

grabbed　Shevket　by　the　arm　and　dragged　him　through　the　kitchen；　passed　the

stairs to the room that faced the far shady side of the courtyard。 I followed

them。　My　mother　opened　the　door。　When　she　saw　me；　she　said；　“Inside；　the

both　of　you。”

“But　I　haven’t　done　anything；”　I　said。　I　entered　anyway。　Mother　clos