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？”