“But he is tired. He puts the pistol to his head again. He says, “I never asked to be born in the first place.”

“This is that old well known man, for who I understood that one morning he puts the pistol in his mouth and put the trigger. He is dead right here. But he would never die in that dream. And I will never stop ask myself why I woke up, and how exactly has finished “This is that old well known man, for who I understood that one morning he puts the pistol in his mouth and put the trigger. He is dead right here. But he would never die in that dream. And I will never stop ask myself why I woke up, and how exactly has finished the strange feast”.”

“I never asked to be born in the first place.”

“Has he come armed, then?” she asked anxiously. “Has he brought a pistol or a sword?”Ian shook his head, his dark hair lifting wildly in the wind.“Oh, no, Mam!” he said. “It’s worse. He’s brought a lawyer!”

“For a moment he wondered, again, if he should just give it all up. Perhaps he should go back to Italy, back to his hiding place. What made him think that he could rejoin the world of daylight?But he was tired of living in shadows. He was tired of the darkness, and of the things that lived in it. Most of all, he was tired of being alone.”

“I didn't say I was going to find the Mad Monk.""But you will," he said, placing his worn and stained Stetson on his head. "You've got that look about you."What look is that?" I asked, tired of his family maligning mine. "A Goodnight look?""A responsible one." He adjusted his hat, in a motion I'd seen Ben make a dozen times that day, right before he drove home his point. "Like you're the girl who takes care of things. So take care of it, dammit.”