‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. . ’” “I have no choice,” Anna declared. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. She saw its depraved eyes, but worse were the glittering teeth as it smiled. She didn’t choose her man. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. Get on with it, then. Gianfrancesco was a contact of mine, I had allied myself to his father before him, and unbeknownst to anyone, to his Great-great-granduncle during the time of Crusades. ” “But how did you defend yourself? Was he so high on drugs that he couldn’t fight back or something?” Michelle asked.
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