that　the　dilemma　to　which　neither　of　us　referred；　but　which　troubled　us　both；

had　yet　to　be　resolved。

Naturally；　Black；　like　every　young　man　who　frequented　our　house　or　heard

what　others　had　to　say　about　us；　or　who　knew　about　my　beautiful　daughter；

Shekure；　from　hearsay；　had　fallen　in　love　with　her。　Perhaps　I　didn’t　consider　it

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dangerous enough to warrant my attention back then； but everyone—

including　many　who’d　never　laid　eyes　on　her—fell　in　love　with　my　daughter；

that　belle　of　belles。　Black’s　affliction　was　the　overwhelming　passion　of　an　ill…

fated　youth　who　had　free　access　to　our　house；　who　was　accepted　and　well　liked

in　our　home　and　who　had　the　opportunity　actually　to　see　Shekure。　He　did　not

bury his love； as I hoped he would； but made the mistake of revealing his

extreme　passion　to　my　daughter。

As　a　result；　he　pletely。

I assumed that Black now also knew how three years after he’d left

Istanbul； my daughter married a spahi cavalryman； at the height of her

loveliness；　and　that　this　soldier；　having　fathered　two　boys　but　still　bereft　of　any

mon　sense；　had　gone　off　on　a　campaign　never　to　return　again。　No　one　had

heard　from　the　cavalryman　in　four　years。　I　gathered　he　was　aware　of　this；　not

only because such gossip spreads fast in Istanbul； but because during the

silences　that　passed　between　us；　I　felt　he’d　learned　the　whole　story　long　ago；

judging　by　the　way　he　looked　into　my　eyes。　Even　at　this　moment；　as　he　casts

an eye at the Book of the Soul； which stands open on the folding X…shaped

reading stand； I know he’s listening for the