illustratorswhohadearheirrenown—nhsufferingmartyrdomincellslikesaints,hseveringtheheadsofenemysoldierswithamightyarmandasharpscimitar,asthatabsenthusbandhaddoonatofamanuscriptthey’dtranscribedethey’dillumiriedveryhardtoimagihemagnifitpicturescreatedbythesecelebratedillustrators,whowere,asmyEnishteexplained,inspiredbythepoweroftheworld’smysteryanditsvisibleblaess.Itriedsohardtovisualizethem—thosemasterpiecesmyEnishtehadseenandwasnowattemptingtodescribetoonewhohadneverlaideyesohat,finally,whenmyimaginationfailedme,Ifeltonlymoredejectedanddemeaned.

    IlookeduptodiscoverthatShevketwasbeforemeagain.Heapproachedmedecisively,andIassumed—aswasaryfortheoldestmalechildamoainArabtribesinTransoxianaandamongCircassiantribesintheCaucasusmountains—thathewouldnotonlykissaguest’shandatthebeginningofavisit,butalsowhenthatguestleft.Caughtoffguard,Ipresentedmyhandforhimtokiss.Atthatmoment,fromsomewherenottoofaraway,Iheardherlaughter.Wasshelaughingatme?Ibecameflusteredandtoremedythesituation,IgrabbedShevketandkissedhimonbothcheeksasthoughthisasreallyexpee.ThenIsmiledatmyEnishteasthoughtoapologizeforinterruptinghimandtoassurehimthatImeantnodisrespect,whilecarefullydrawingthechildocheckwhetherheborehismother’sst.BythetimeIuoodthattheboyhadplacedacrumpledscrapofpaperintomyhand,he’dlongsiurnedhisbadwalkedsomedistaowardthedoor.

    Iclutchedthescrapofpaperinmyfistlikeajewel.AndwhenIuoodthatthiswasanotefromShekure,outofelationIcouldscarcelykeepfromgrinningstupidlyatmyEnishte.Wasn’tthisproofenou