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Updated: May 21, 2025
Mechanically, as the minutes drew on towards noon, he walked towards the Tekkeh of the Dervishes. Once he had come here to meet Cynthia Clarke, and now he had deliberately chosen the same place for the terrible interview with his wife. It could only be terrible. He would lay bare his soul. It was fitting that he should confess his sin in the place of its beginnings.
Presently she turned to her Greek dragoman. "Where's the Tekkeh? Is it much farther?" "No, Madame." He pointed. As he did so Rosamund saw Dion's figure standing against the cypress. She stood still. Her face was white and drawn, but full of an almost flaming resolution.
The old sages said, 'Eat not thy heart nor mourn the buried Past. Stay here for a time, and learn to obey that command. Perhaps, eventually, Stamboul will help you." "Nothing can help me," he answered. They went down the hill by the Tekkeh of the Dancing Dervishes. Mrs. Clarke did not go back to her villa at Buyukderer that day.
He left the window, sat down again at the table, and wrote quickly. "I have your letter. Will you meet me to-morrow at Eyub, in the cemetery on the hill? I will be near the Tekkeh of the dancing Dervishes. I will be there before noon, and will wait all day. When he began to write he knew that he could not make his confession to Rosamund within the four walls of his sordid and dingy room.
A banal phrase came to his lips, "You are in your element here." But he held it back, remembering that they walked in the midst of dust. Leaving the mosque they ascended the hill and passed the Tekkeh of the dancing dervishes.
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