第10部分(第3/7 頁)

。” Black； whom my mother referred to as a

“boy；”　was　twenty…four；　and　I　was　half　his　age。　Because　my　father　considered

Black’s declaration of love an act of insolence； he wouldn’t humor my

mother’s　wishes。

Though　we　hadn’t　forgotten　him　altogether　by　the　time　we　received　news

that he’d left Istanbul； we’d let him slip pletely out of our affections。

Because　we　hadn’t　received　news　about　him　from　any　city　for　years；　I　deemed

it　appropriate　to　save　the　picture　he’d　made　and　shown　me；　as　a　token　of　our

childhood memories and friendship。 To prevent my father； and later my

soldier…husband； from discovering the picture and getting upset or jealous； I

expertly concealed the names “Shekure” and “Black” beneath the figures by

making　it　appear　as　if　someone　had　dribbled　my　father’s　Hasan　Pasha　ink　onto

them；　in　an　accident　later　to　be　disguised　as　flowers。　Since　I’ve　returned　that

picture　to　him　today；　maybe　those　among　you　inclined　to　take　a　dim　view　of

how　I　revealed　myself　to　him　at　the　window　will　feel　ashamed　and　reconsider

your　prejudices　somewhat。

Having　exposed　my　face　to　him；　I　remained　for　a　while　there　at　the　window；

showered in the crimson hue of the evening sun； and gazed in awe at the

garden　bathed　in　reddish…orange　light；　until　I　felt　the　chill　of　the　evening　air。

There　was　no　breeze。　I　didn’t　care　what　someone　passing　in　the　street　would’ve

said upon seeing me at the open window。 One of Ziver Pasha’s daughters；

Mesrure；　who　always　laughed　and　enjoyed　herself　saying　the　most　surprising

things　at　the　most　inopportune　times　when　we