““It's—everything,' said Ancel. 'All the most elegant fashions, the most powerful people. Here you're important. It's not like a small village where you can never affect the world. I like feeling—' Like part of it. Like the master of it. Like he had power over men, like if they wanted him they had to pay a fortune for it. Like he was more valuable than the wine goblet Berenger held, or the silver pitcher a servant had poured from. Like he mattered. 'Perhaps I ought to think of it more like that.' 'How do you think of it?' 'I think,' said Berenger, 'that the only person in this place who shows me their real face is you.””
