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'Quoth Ja'afar, bowing low his head: "Bold is the donkey-driver, O Ka'dee! and bold the Ka'dee who dares say what he will believe, what disbelieve not knowing in any wise the mind of Allah not knowing in any wise his own heart and what it shall some day suffer." This story so absorbed me that when my father re-entered the house I was perfectly unconscious of his presence.
'I mean he was very eccentric, wasn't he? 'Who shall say, madam? "Bold is the donkey-driver and bold the ka'dee who dares say what he will believe, what disbelieve, not knowing in any wise the mind of Allah, not knowing in any wise his own heart and what it shall some day suffer." At the next station the old lady left the carriage and entered another, and I was left alone.
It was a story of a donkey-driver, who, having lost his wife Alawiyah, went and lived alone in the ruby hills of Badakhshan, where the Angel of Memory fashioned for him out of his own sorrow and tears an image of his wife. This image was mistaken by a townsman named Hasan for his own wife, and Ja'afar was summoned before the Ka'dee.
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