Not a shadow moved.

Because of the hour there were not even any guides lurking around the mosque.

The only shape that came to life as we approached the main entrance of the mosque was the man who takes care of the slippers for a small fee.
Grim, since he was in military dress, allowed the attendant to tie on over his shoes the great straw slippers they keep there for that purpose.

Suliman had nothing on his feet.

I kicked off the red Damascus slippers I was wearing, and we entered the octagonal building by passing under a curtain at the rear of the deep, vaulted entrance.
Nobody took any notice of us at first.