s no signature, and t and trates t ”signature‘ and “style” are but means of being brazenly and stupidly self-congratulatory about flaand of painting? I said: “ood wories?”

    “Certainly,”  conviction.

    So you don’t try to discern o tell you directly. I can do anyters of Kazvin, I can drater tsoever to do , ion serves me correctly—is t Effendi the Gilder.

    Black asked me about t.

    I  and I enjoy my ly married t beautiful maiden in t illuminating,  to ’s not how I

    ans’s a serious issue,” I said. “If masterpieces issue from turist, o issuing it to  a loss to bestir te rue as isfies tistry  of turist, Black, too, believed tened.

    ed to see t pages I’d illustrated. I seated  my able, among ts, inking boards. Black ing I ing for tivities,  beside  my beautiful ting ly; indeed, I o draunate prisoners before Our Sultan, as my intelligent o the reed of my manhood.

    ting depicted tors and tan. I’d situated tan on t covered in bags full of silver coins, as I’d personally nessed during suced treasurer  of t ledger. I’d portrayed tors, co eac broeary eyes. I’d painted te players in sific faces as t folloan’s presentation of  gift: sparing to emp of debt—t tset—beside t of tcitution, along er, sorro beautiful, clad in a crimson mantle. So t t understand rating equaled love-of-life, I o explain ended across to tell  ture; I o elucidate ters never did—ting off to tan’s caftan of atlas silk, but eous question:

    ould I, percunate Elegant Effendi m