"I drew that."
"You drew it? Is that something they taught at the Roman Divinity School too?"
"More or less."
"Then I think it'd be better if you just kept your mouth shut."
"Alright, it was before that."
"How long before?"
"A long, long time ago."
"You're only nineteen."
"Okay, it was before I came to Italy. I was born in Normandy. My mother was Danish. I guess she was probably one of the Danish who settled in England."
"You guess?"
"Yes. I've never met her. I don't even know her name... Well, as for her name, I might have had a chance to find it out, but I refused."
"Why?"
"There's no why. It was a long time ago. Besides, she made her decision. I should... respect it. Don't you think?"
"There's no harm in knowing a name."
"My memories start very early, around when I was two or three. I remember things clearly, but I have no impression of her at all. Well, maybe I do, but I wouldn't recognize her. It probably means she abandoned me right after I was born."
