“I am not a doctor,' I replied, 'I only help those who come to me in desperation. When a man is brought to me naked I do not know his race or allegiance. I will treat the sick, and if you do not allow me to do so, then I will treat no one.”

“The Maestro spoke again. "When we are not, at what point do we become?" I could not reply. For I had grasped no shape of his thoughts. I understood neither what he said nor his intent behind it.”

“I must tell you this, Maggie. Your letters are my lifeline. Your threat to stop them terrified me. Never stop writing to me, I implore you.”

“How had it come about that these particular designs were chosen as our letters? Who decreed what sound would accompany each shape? And how was it decided the manner they would come together to form a word? 'Why is this so?' I demanded to know.”

“She looked... She looked young, and- and--" I glanced down at Rossana gazing up at me, lips parted, eyes shining, her hair loose around her shoulders, and the next words I spoke were intended with no artifice at all. "She is almost as beautiful as you." There was laughter, and I looked up, confused. "If you wish to pay court to my daughter, Matteo, you must first speak to me," Captain dell'Orte said in mock severity. Rossana's face colored pink."Elizabetta is also very beautiful," I said quickly, thinking to cover any embarassment, but also because it was true. The adults roared with laughter. "Now Matteo seeks to woo both girls with one compliment.”

“This was not completely true. I had run so fast that I still had a stitch in my side, but I did not want to be left out of their confraternity of guilt.”

“Ho there, scribe. I see that you write well enough. Can you also read?''Obviously you cannot, boy,' he replied. 'For if you were able to read, you would see that my sign' -he pointed to a piece of paper pinned to the wall above his head - 'says: Reading and Writing - Careful and Discreet- the Sinistro Scribe.”