“I don’t want to see you come back without bringing Kiamíl!” my mother shouted after him.
“What’s happening, mother?” I asked when I saw her face filled with anxiety.
“Nothing, my son, nothing.”
And she entered the kitchen, asking me nothing about the case. It seemed that she was more concerned with the absence of Kiamíl.
It was the first time that I had seen the efendi in his house. After he had worked so hard for us, it was right for me to be as friendly and grateful as I could, especially as I saw how dispirited he was because his hard labour had borne no fruit. So I sat down beside him and we started a friendly conversation on various subjects, mainly political. When in the course of our conversation I asked him what he thought about the party of the so-called Young Turks in Consta
