A dozen Turks, those who had homes, slunk away; the
remainder, those who had no homes of their own, stayed to sleep.
The host now came to me and we did some business. I wanted to change
some Turkish silver, as I was short of Russian money. As no bank
would take this small coin I was obliged to try the coffee-house.
Accordingly, I had asked my coffee-house keeper to buy a hundred or so
piastres. After half an hour's haggling we struck a very bad bargain.
I find the Turk more of a sharp than the Jew.
The long day was over. The shutters were pulled along in front of the
shop and padlocked. A form was accorded me on which to sleep. Another
form was drawn out into the middle of the room and placed at a certain
angle, pointing to the East, I suppose. Then during half an hour the
Turks ascended this form in turn, stood, bowed, knelt, prostrated
themselves in silent prayer, reiteratedly. They prayed very
differently from Russian peasants. Their movements were abrupt and
mechanical, like steps in a military drill. They were nearer to
spiritual death and praying-boxes than any I had ever watched pray
before. I felt myself in the presence of a new form of piety. I had
crossed the great broad line that separates Europe from Asia, and come
to a place where Europe is not understood and therefore hated.
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