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lurked  a  glee  that  she  couldn’t  conceal:  The  delight  that  her  resentment  had

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been recognized。 It was from this point of entry that your sharp…witted Esther

attempted to discover the reasons for and circumstances of Kalbiye’s anger。

It didn’t take long for Kalbiye to admit that she’d been upset with the late

Enishte Effendi due to the illustrated manuscript he was preparing。 She said

her husband; may he rest in peace; hadn’t agreed to work on the book for the

sake of a handful of extra silver coins; but because Enishte Effendi convinced

him  the  project  was  authorized  by  the  Sultan。  However;  when  her  late

husband  became  aware  that  the  illuminations  Enishte  Effendi  hired  him  to

gild  were  slowly  evolving  from  simple  ornamented  pages  into  full…blown

illustrations;  pictures  moreover  that  bore  the  marks  of  Frankish  blasphemy;

atheism and even heresy; he grew uneasy and began to lose sight of right and

wrong。  Being  a  much  more  reasonable  and  prudent  person  than  Elegant

Effendi; she cautiously added that all these doubts arose gradually rather than

at once; and since poor Elegant Effendi never found anything that would be

considered blatant sacrilege; he was able to dismiss his worries as unfounded。

Besides; he forted himself by never missing a sermon given by Nusret Hoja

of  Erzurum;  and  if  he  skipped  one  of  his  five  daily  prayers  it  unsettled  him。

Just as he knew that certain scoundrels at the workshop ridiculed his plete

devotion to the faith; so he understood very well that their brazen jokes arose

out of envy of his talent and artistry。

A large; glimmering tear slid from Kalbiye’s gleaming eye down her cheek;

and at the first opportunity; your good…hearted Esther decided to find Kalbiye

a better husband than the one she’d recently lost。

“My  late  husband  didn’t  often  share  these  concerns  of  his  with  me;”

Kalbiye  said  cautiously。  “Based  on  whatever  I  could  remember  and  piece

together   I’ve   concluded   that   everything   happened   on   account   of   the

illustrations that took him to Enishte Effendi’s house on his very last night。”

This was some manner of apology。 In response; I reminded her how her fate

and Shekure’s; not to mention their enemies; were the same if one considered

that Enishte Effendi had perhaps been killed by the same “scoundrel。” The two

large…headed fatherless waifs staring at me from the corner suggested another

similarity  between  the  two  women。  But  my  merciless  matchmaker’s  logic

quickly reminded me that Shekure’s situation was much more beautiful; rich

and mysterious。 I let Kalbiye know exactly what I felt:

“Shekure  told  me  to  tell  you  that  if  she  has  wronged  you;  she’s  sorry;”  I

said。  “She  wants  to  say  that  she  loves  you  as  a  sister  and  as  a  woman  who

shares her fate。 She wants you to think about this and help her。 When the late

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