第28部分(第3/7 頁)

r versions of this depiction of a dog at the coffeehouse

where　the　storyteller　performs；”　Black　said。

“My illustrators； most of whom are spiritually bound to Master Osman

and the workshop； take a dim view of the labors performed for my book。

When　they　leave　here　at　night　I　imagine　they　have　their　vulgar　fun　over　these

illustrations　which　they　draw　for　money　and　ridicule　me　at　the　coffeehouse。

And who among them will ever forget the time Our Sultan had the young

Veian　artist；　whom　He’d　invited　from　the　embassy　at　my　behest；　paint　His

portrait。　Thereafter；　He　had　Master　Osman　make　a　copy　of　that　oil　painting。

Forced　to　imitate　the　Veian　painter；　Master　Osman　held　me　responsible　for

this unseemly coercion and the shameful portrait that came of it。 He was

justified。”

All　day　long；　I　showed　him　every　picture—except　the　final　illustration　that　I

cannot； for whatever reason； finish。 I prodded him to write。 I discussed the

temperaments of the miniaturists； and I enumerated the sums of money I

meted　out　to　them。　We　discussed　“perspective”　and　whether　the　diminutive

objects　in　the　background　of　Veian　pictures　were　sacrilegious；　and　equally；

we talked about the possibility that unfortunate Elegant Effendi had been

murdered　for　excessive　ambition　and　out　of　jealousy　over　his　wealth。

As Black returned home that night； I was confident he’d e again the

next　morning　as　promised　and　that　he’d　once　again　listen　to　me　recount　the

stories that would constitute my book。 I listened to his footsteps fading

beyond　the　open　gate；　t