[ when was it, kaveh thinks - when was it that he began to behold a courage so pure that it puts all else to shame? kaveh is shamed. of course he is shamed. heine looks into kaveh's eyes. how is it, kaveh thinks, that their eyes are both made of the same, deep, bloodless red, and it is only heine's that reflects the parts of human nature that proves the existence of a soul?

heine grips kaveh's ankle. kaveh is moored by it. his hand is warm. has anyone told heine that, kaveh wonders - has anyone told heine that he is made of the warmth, and all that is good? has anyone told heine the magnitude of what would be lost if he were to be lost? ]

I am furious, [ kaveh says, his breath catching. he is crying, he realises. it trails down his cheek like wayward stars, ] Heine. Truly. She could die a hundred deaths, and it would not amount to what would be lost if you were lost. I am furious that you have not known this.