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第33部分(第1页)

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

147

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 letter mockingly; in places raising his already high…pitched

voice  even  higher  like  a  woman’s;  and  in  places;  emulating  the  trembling

supplication of a lover who’d lost all reason。 He made light of Black’s having

written his wish “to see you just once” in Persian。 He added; “As soon as Black

saw  that  Shekure  had  given  him  some  hope;  he  quickly  began  to  negotiate。

Such haggling isn’t something a genuine lover would resort to。”

“He’s genuinely in love with Shekure;” I said naively。

“This ment proves that you’ve taken Black’s side;” he said。 “If Shekure

has written that she dreamt my older brother was dead; it means she accepts

her husband’s death。”

“That was just a dream;” I said like an idiot。

“I  know  how  smart  and  cunning  Shevket  is。  We  lived  together  for  many

years! Without his mother’s permission and prodding; he’d never have taken

Black to the house of the Hanged Jew。 If Shekure thinks she’s through with my

older brother—with us—she’s terribly mistaken! My older brother is still alive

and he’ll return from the war。”

Before he had a chance to conclude; he went into the next room where he

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