She had not nursed Leonardo for weeks for nothing. They were talking of “Alcide,” as they often did in those days. Daughters were in the air that day. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad. ‘Very well,’ he said, lowering his own weapon. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. That is why I called myself Anna. Those I don’t mind, though, the games. It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock.
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