He was dead. However, his nose throbbed painfully, which he thought odd in the circumstances.

Really love him, I mean," Geilie persisted. "Not just to bed him; I know you want that, and he does too. They all do. But do you love him?" Did I love him? Beyond the urges of the flesh? The hole had the dark anonymity of the confessional, and a soul on the verge of death had no time for lies. "Yes," I said, and laid my head back on my knees. It was silent in the hole for some time, and I hovered once more on the verge of sleep, when I heard her speak once more, as though to herself. "So it's possible," she said thoughtfully.

Oh, womanly sympathy, love AND food?" I said, laughing. "Don't want a lot, do you?

No wonder men got impervious to superficial pain, I thought. It came from this habit of hammering each other incessantly.

It's only that ye looked so beautiful, wi' the fire on your face, and your hair waving in the wind. I wanted to remember it.

For so many years, for so long, I have been so many things, so many different men. But here," he said, so softly I could barely hear him, "here in the dark, with you… I have no name.

If I die," he whispered in the dark, "dinna follow me. The bairns will need ye. Stay for them. I can wait.