第33部分(第1/7 頁)

sellers　had　spread　out　cabbage；　carrots　and　the　rest　in　front　of　their　shops。　But

I　didn’t　even　have　it　in　me　to　touch　the　plump　leeks　that　were　crying　out　to

me　to　fondle　them。

I　turned　onto　the　side　street；　and　saw　that　the　blind　Tatar　was　there　waiting

to　heckle　me　again。　“Tuh；”　I　spat　in　his　direction；　that　was　all。　Why　doesn’t　this

biting　cold　freeze　these　vagrants　to　death？

As Hasan silently read the letter； I could barely maintain my patience。

Finally；　unable　to　restrain　myself；　I　suddenly　said　“Yes？”　and　he　began　reading

aloud：

My Dearest Shekure； you’ve requested that I plete your father’s book。 You

can　be　certain　that　I　have　no　other　goal。　I　visit　your　house　for　this　reason；　not　to

pester　you；　as　you’d　earlier　indicated。　I’m　quite　aware　that　my　love　for　you　is　my

own concern。 Yet； due to this love； I’m unable properly to take up my pen and

write　what　your　father—my　dear　Uncle—has　requested　for　his　book。　Whenever　I

sense　your　presence　in　the　house；　I　seize　up　and　am　of　no　service　to　your　father。　I’ve

mulled　this　over　extensively　and　there　can　be　but　one　cause：　After　twelve　years；　I’ve

seen　your　face　only　once；　when　you　showed　yourself　at　the　window。　Now；　I　quite

fear　losing　that　vision。　If　I　could　once　more　see　you　close…up；　I’d　have　no　fear　of

losing　you；　and　I　could　easily　finish　your　father’s　book。　Yesterday；　Shevket　brought

me　to　the　abandoned　house　of　the　Hanged　Jew。　No　one　will　see　us　there。　Today；　at

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whatever time you see fit； I’ll go there and wait for you。 Yesterday； Shevket

mentioned　that　you　dreamt　your　husband　had　died。

Hasan　read　the