“Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. “Promise me that you’ll never tell another living soul, John. I. He was afraid if he stayed that he would make a fool of himself. The remainder of dinner was surreal and stilted. His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. How many ends had he? Well, she must cease to trouble herself for this imbecile, whom it would give her very much pleasure to shoot. I have a new cult to teach, a new enthusiasm. “Fighting goes with loads of its own baggage, John. “You shall,” she said. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself.
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