city to city, searcreasuries of sultans and kings, in order to find and destroy ts ed. In  noto destroy it; gaining access by flattery or by ruse, and precisely ion, ear out tration appeared, or, seizing an opportunity, er on t. I recounted tale as an example of urist could suffer great agony for untingly forsaking . tioned aining  trated; so many books t  cull  exaggeration, as if I’d experienced it myself, I told er, in profound sorro, o deat terrible conflagration.

    “Are you afraid, my ce Effendi compassionately, “of tings we’ve made?”

    t see for myself, but I sensed t h a smile.

    “Our book is no longer a secret,” I ansant. But rumors are spreading. tted blasp,  as Our Sultan  one meant to entertain our oers. t even depicts Satan as amiable. tted an unforgivable sin by daring to draive of a mangy street dog, a  ttend prayers. I cannot sleep for t suchings.”

    “e made trations togete Effendi. “Could ted such an offense?”

    “Not at all,” I said expansively. “But t it someing in  we hold sacred.”

    “You yourself ing.”

    “Nay, I made pictures of ed in various places on a large s, ration,” I said ion and precision t I e Effendi. “But I never saed illustration. If I ire painting, I’d  denying all this foul slander.”

    “ t you feel guilty?” ’s gna your soul? o doubt yourself?”

    “…to  one tacked er spending montrating a book…to suffer torments of  last painting in its entirety.”

    “Is t troubles you?” his why you’ve come?”