I uttiil soup on the boil for our evening meal when Nesim said, 「There』s a visitor at the door.」 I replied, 「Make sure the soup doesn』t burn,」 handing him the spoon and giving it a couple of turns i while holding his aged hand. If you don』t show them, they』ll stand there for hours idly holding the spoon i.
When I saw Black at the door I felt nothing but pity for him. There was su expression on his face I was afraid to ask what had happened.
「Don』t bother to e inside,」 I said, 「I』ll be out as soon as I ge clothes.」
I dohe pink and yellow garments that I wear when I』m io Ramadaivities, wealthy bas ahy weddings, and took up my holiday satchel. 「I』ll have my soup when I get back,」 I said to poor Nesim.
Blad I had crossed oreet in my little Jewish neighborhood whose eys labor to expel their smoke, the way our kettles force out their steam, and I said:「Shekure』s former husband is back.」
Black fell silent and stayed that way until we left the neighborhood. His face was ashen, the color of the waning day.
「Where are they?」 he asked sometime later.
From this question I guessed that Shekure and her children weren』t at home. 「They』re at their house,」 I said. Because I meant Shekure』s previous home, and k ohat this would singe Black』s heart, I opened a door of hope for him by tag the word 「probably」 onto the end of my statement.
「Have you seen her newly returned husband?」 he asked me, looking deep into my eyes.
「I haven』t seen him, her did I see Shekure』s flight from the house.」
「How did you know they』d left?」
「From your face.」
「Tell me everything,」 he said decisively.
Black was so troubled he didn』t uand that Esther—her eye eternally at the window, her ear eternally to the ground—could ell everything」 if she wao tio be the Esther who found husbands for so many dreamy maidens and knocked on the doors of so many unhappy homes.
「What I』ve heard,」 I said, 「is that the brother of Shekure』s former husband, Hasan, visited your house」—it heartened him when I said 「your house」—「and told Shevket that his father was on his way home from war, that he would arrive around midafternoon, and that if he didn』t find Shevket』s mother and brother in their rightful home, he』d be very upset. Shevket told this to his mother, who acted cautiously, but couldn』t e to a decision. Toward midafternoon, Shevket left the house to be with his Uncle Hasan and his grandfather.」
「Where did you learhings?」
「Hasn』t Shekure told you about Hasan』s schemes over the last two years to get her back to his house? There was a time when Hasa letters to Shekure through me.」
「Did she ever respond to them?」
「I know all the varieties of women in Istanbul,」 I said proudly, 「there』s no one who』s as bound to her house, her husband and her honor as Shekure is.」
「But I am her husband now.」
His voice bore that typically male uainty that always depressed me. Amazingly, to whichever side Shekure fled, the other side went to pieces.
「Hasan wrote a note and gave it to me to deliver to Shekure. It described how Shevket had e home to await the return of his father, how Shekure had been married in an illegitimate ceremony, how Shevket was very unhappy on at of the false husband who was supposed to be his new father and how he was never going back.」
「How did Shekure respond?」
「She waited for you all through the night with poor Orhan.」
「What about Hayriye?」
「H