" "It matters not who I am," replied Jonathan, taking the money. It was then that the young man entered his thought with some permanency: because there was no apparent reason for his joining the tour, since from the beginning he had shown no interest in anything. He had almost forced himself upon her one night after a particularly bloody raid of a thatched cottage. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. He would teach her all he knew of life so that if the Hand should ever reach his shoulder, she would be able to defend herself.
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