persisted too long。 Instead of searching for a second witness required for a

legal　separation　at　the　door　of　the　üsküdar　judge；　the　Imam　Effendi　suggested

his　brother。　Now；　if　I　were　to　offer　an　additional　gold　piece　to　the　brother；　who

lived　in　the　neighborhood　and　was　familiar　with　the　predicament　of　Shekure

and　her　darling　children；　I’d　be　doing　a　good　pious　turn。　After　all；　for　only　two

gold　coins　the　Imam　Effendi　was　giving　me　a　deal　on　the　second　witness。　We

immediately　agreed。　The　Imam　Effendi　went　to　fetch　his　brother。

The　rest　of　our　day　rather　resembled　the　“cat…and…mouse”　stories　that　I’d

watched storytellers in Aleppo coffeehouses act out。 Because of all the

adventure　and　trickery；　such　stories　written　up　as　narrative　poems　and　bound

were never taken seriously even if presented in fine calligraphy； that is； they

were never illustrated。 I； on the other hand； was quite pleased to divide our

daylong　adventure　into　four　scenes；　imagining　each　in　the　illustrated　pages　of

my　mind。

In　the　first　scene；　the　miniaturist　ought　to　depict　us　amid　mustachioed　and

muscled　oarsmen；　forging　our　way　across　the　blue　Bosphorus　toward　üsküdar

in　the　four…oared　red　longboat　we’d　boarded　in　Unkapan？。　The　preacher　and

his skinny dark…plexioned brother； pleased with the surprise voyage； are

engaging　the　oa