ter

    miniaturist  bad luck if  talented miniaturist. Olive is not as talented as is assumed, ries to cover up for alent ion of ters. tist’s imagination; it’s t does ting.

    As Black s and boxes, going as far as to ctoms of laundry baskets,  touc Olive’s Bursa tootles, a ridiculous  clot pattern, quilted jackets, a y , a dented copper tray, filts and otoo cingy and salting  someer. “t even a prayer rug.” But t rated. “t kno sadly about y to ting.

    “Despite kno takes to be content, a man migill be unhappy,” said Black.

    ures dras, udied tures: a deligan all t ree, a beautiful ure of Deatrations t toryteller  old one of ories. Prompted by Black’s question, I pointed out ture of Death I had drawn.

    “tures are in my Enishte’s book,” he said.

    “Botoryteller and tor of turists render trations eac. toryteller ion on one of ts, ask us a little about tory and about our in jokes and terial, art the evening’s performance.”

    “ure of Deat you made for my Enishte’s book?”

    “Upon t of toryteller, it  I didn’t dra tention and effort te’s book; I dre quickly, t like dra. too, perrying to be ty, dreoryteller in a cruder and simpler manner  secret book.”

    “ nostrils?”

    Loc resembled te’s book, but it ered to a simpler taste, as if somebody  only paid trator less money and made er, but also forced o make a rougic horse.

    “Stork   a day  listening to turists, t’s . Yes, most certainly, Stork drehis horse.”