He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. In those revolutionary times one had to be prepared. ‘It is not easy. If hopeless love for her made me a robber, it has also saved me many a crime. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. She had made her way since then a little further into the heart of life. She liked his face; it had on it the suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. . She had eaten them, murdered them routinely, and yet he loved her still.
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