turning my head to the right and to the left。
Black told me not to hide anything。 Where was the last picture？ Confess！
I felt suffocating regret and anger for two reasons： First； I’d said everything I
had for naught； unaware that they’d e to an agreement beforehand；
secondly； I hadn’t fled； unable to imagine that their envy would reach this
level。
Black threatened to cut my throat if I didn’t produce the last picture。
How very ridiculous。 I firmly closed my lips； as if the truth would escape if I
opened my mouth。 Part of me also thought that there was nothing left for me
to do。 If they came to an agreement among themselves and turned me over to
the Head Treasurer as the murderer； they’d end up saving their own hides。 My
only hope lay with Master Osman； who might point out another suspect or
another clue； but then； could I be certain what Black said about him was
correct？ He could kill me here and now； and later place the onus on me；
couldn’t he？
They rested the dagger against my throat； and I saw at once how this gave
Black a pleasure that he could not conceal。 They slapped me。 Was the dagger
cutting my skin？ They slapped me again。
I was able to work through the following logic： If I held my peace； nothing
would happen！ This gave me strength。 They could no longer hide the fact that
since the days of our apprenticeships they’d been jealous of me； I； who quite
evidently applied paint in the best manner； drew the steadiest line and made
the best illuminations。 I loved them for their extreme envy。 I smiled upon my
beloved brethren。
One of them； I don’t want